


The Next Time Around

by chashmish



Series: TNTA-verse [2]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: "feelings", Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - No Powers, Communication, F/F, Get Together (again), Italy, M/M, Past Relationship(s), weddings (of the elaborate overseas variety)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-03
Updated: 2018-06-08
Packaged: 2019-01-08 11:57:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 118,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12253938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chashmish/pseuds/chashmish
Summary: “Soooo,” Ryuji began, voice ominously beginning to increase in volume. “Is anyone going to tell me how the hell you two know each other?”Seeking to prevent any eardrum damages, Akira answered quickly. “Goro and I went to college together.”“That’s correct,” Goro said, enigmatic smile back on.Akira waited to see if Goro would continue, but when it seemed no addition was forthcoming, he decided to drop the bomb himself. “In fact," he began carefully, "we used to, ah... date.”“Wait,” Ryuji said. “WHAT?”At an old friend's wedding in Venice, Akira Kurusu runs into the last person he expected to see, which would all be well and good– if he could just work out how he felt about it. And if the person in question wasn't his ex-boyfriend.





	1. into focus

“This is why I hate travelling,” Futaba said.

Akira was adjusting the straps of his backpack, mentally running a list of everything he had with him– _camera, check, passport, miraculously not lost yet, phone, still here–_ when he paused to look up at her. “Clarify?”

Futaba slumped a little and cast her surroundings a critical eye, as if she was scrutinizing a befuddling map in an open-world game. “Airports.”

They were standing towards the end of the arrivals lobby, watching waves of people ebb and flow towards and away from them. Unfamiliar voices said words Akira couldn’t quite catch in languages he couldn’t quite understand. When anyone eyed the two of them it was only a passing glance before they looked away and kept moving forward, returning to their own separate journeys that Akira knew nothing of.

Glancing around the place with Futaba, Akira found himself able to understand her sentiments. He’d racked up quite a bit of experience with culture shock, but even so, there was always something alien about finding himself in new terrain– there was always a little jolt that never quite went away.

The difference between the two of them was that somewhere along the line he’d come to associate the strangeness with a buzzing feeling of adrenaline, an itching restlessness that sought to establish a new order. He wanted to reach out and touch as much of the world as he could, forcing himself onto new paths until nothing was unfamiliar.

Akira grinned and put his wallet into his back pocket. “I know what you mean, but this is a pretty small airport, relative to everything. And I thought you hate travelling because it requires you to leave the house.”

“Yeah, well, there are a plethora of reasons,” Futaba said offhandedly, even as she pulled her headphones tighter around her ears. Her discomfort was palpable, but Akira knew she was looking around the lobby with a different eye than she’d had when he first met her. Back then her gaze had been a nervous search for respite, a hurried attempt to find a place to box herself in and disappear– and now she came ready with a mathematician’s probing look, a sharp sweep that scanned for ways she could force her way into the marrow of things, integrate herself with the lifeblood of it all and give force. _Veni, vidi, vici,_ thought Akira. It was a change that had happened slowly, and if Akira tried to explain what he saw she’d give him a puzzled stare with a wrinkled nose, but he could tell the difference, and that was enough.

"Well, we'll be out of here soon," Akira said easily, stretching his arms above his head and wincing at the protest of his joints. The long flight had left him more than a little sore. "Let's head towards the exit.”

"Cool." Futaba fell into place beside him as they began moving, her combat boots slapping the floor with a staccato rhythm as Akira’s sneakers kept their own steady tempo. "Hey, remind me– have you ever been to Italy?"

"The mainland, yeah, for an assignment, but never Venice," Akira answered.

"Hm. You'll be able to get some good shots, right? Of the boats, or... whatever there is."

"That's the plan. Although I get the feeling Ann will keep me too busy to find any time to take pictures."

Futaba grinned. "You're probably right. You can always count on her to go over the top.”

Akira smirked and nodded his agreement.

Ann was one of Akira’s best friends from high school, part of the little gang of outcasts Akira had been a part of after his parents had kicked him out and he’d wound up at Shujin and in Sojiro’s attic. There was Ryuji, too, eventually, bursting onto the scene with the characteristic lack of subtlety they all loved him for, and then Futaba had entered the picture– an agoraphobic middle-schooler and Sojiro’s ward. She was almost nothing like the rest of them but for her identical feeling of isolation, and that was what made all the difference. Her coming into their lives was a slow process, accompanied by a lot of false starts, but by the end of it all she’d made a close bond with them all– and Akira, in some way he still didn’t completely understand but was fiercely grateful for, had gotten a sister.

When he’d gotten the news from Ann a few months before, it had been a while since they’d last spoken. He kept up with her magazines, usually to choose the best shots to send to her and make fun of, and she subscribed to his in turn– though while Akira was a photographer, his name blocked into bylines at the bottoms of pages, Ann was the camera’s darling, her eyes or her hair or her lips demanding attention from the covers. With their schedules, time for talk was short, and it followed that Akira only found out about Makoto at about the same time as the rest of the world.

He’d been in Bolivia when he’d gotten his invitation– by way of e-mail; Ann knew he didn’t exactly have a permanent address. The subject line had read “I’M GETTING MARRIED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”; the body “May 22nd you better come ask Futaba for details love u call me”.

Futaba had FaceTimed him from Tokyo, and held up a cream-colored invitation to the screen, so Akira could rub his sleep-bleary eyes (time differences were a bitch) and make out the words: _Please join us to celebrate the wedding of Ann Takamaki and Makoto Niijima on May 22nd in Venice, Italy._

So that had been something of a surprise.

“Who’s Niijima?” Futaba had said, her curious face filling up the whole screen. “Well, that aside, _Italy?_ What the hell? I’ve never been outside of Tokyo!”

Several days of activity followed in which Akira did call Ann and had a three-and-a-half hour long conversation that resulted in much tears and gushing, Futaba declined to go, then changed her mind, then changed her mind again, then finally accepted, Akira begged his editor on his hands and knees for some time off, and Futaba somehow managed to access every piece of information the Internet contained about one Makoto Niijima.

“You seriously didn’t need to download her _dental records,”_ Akira had admonished Futaba when he finally saw her face-to-face, after a red-eye flight to Tokyo. They’d been sitting on the floor of her apartment, eating takeout. Between the two of them, they could adequately cook a single meal: curry, and after three straight days of that, anything else would suffice.

“I didn’t go looking for them, I just found them!” Futaba countered. “Anyway, she has great teeth, in case you were wondering.”

“I wasn’t,” Akira replied. He considered it. “Actually, maybe a little bit.”

“This is Ann, Akira!” Futaba jabbed her finger in Akira’s face. “We can’t just see her married off to some freak who doesn’t brush her teeth.”

“Yeah, yeah. Got any non-tooth-related information?”

It emerged that Niijima was an accomplished lawyer at just twenty-seven, who’d made a name for herself rising through the ranks of a well-established firm. If the pet adoption agency that Futaba had hacked into (“Come on, I can’t help myself. They don’t even have an updated firewall.”) was to be believed, she had a dog. One older sister, no parents (Futaba’s mouth turned into a hard line), and she lived in a studio apartment in the city. Annual income–

“Okay, enough,” Akira said loudly, reaching over and closing the lid of Futaba’s laptop over her protests. “She really seems different from Ann.”

“Pfft, yeah. We’re talking totally opposite lifestyles here. But somehow…” Futaba tilted her chin, considering. “I get the feeling it’ll work out.”

Akira nodded, smiling. “I’m giving my unofficial approval, too. From all that and from what Ann told me, I think I like her.”

“Finally,” Futaba had said, sounding relieved. “Ann found someone to keep her head on straight.”

"How would you want to have your wedding, Akira?" Futaba teased, back in the present. They’d been following the signs and were almost at the front of the airport.

Akira grinned. "Oh, I'd go above and beyond. Italy is nothing. I'd take everybody on a world tour. For a month. And at the end I'd finally tie the knot in…” He paused.

“Ooh, let me guess. London.”

“Too cold.”

“Paris.”

“Too cliché.”

“...Yongen-Jaya.”

“Ha. No, I’m thinking… Antarctica."

“Oh,” Futaba deadpanned. “And yet London’s out of the running.”

Akira beamed. “I knew you’d understand.”

"Not like it matters, though, considering you don’t have anyone to trick into marrying you!" Futaba sang.

"Well, I've got plenty of time to ensnare somebody in my trap," Akira said lazily. He raised his camera and snapped a quick picture of Futaba's still-smirking face.

“Hey!” She shoved him. “You’re a _travel_ photographer.”

“I have an artist’s soul, Futaba. I can’t ignore my creative instincts.”

Futaba shook her head and pulled out her phone, considering what to do next. “We have to buy tickets for the water bus now. Where can we do that?”

“Right here, apparently,” Akira said, glancing towards a counter that displayed a large advertisement for the tickets in question.

They approached the counter. Akira took out his wallet and shook his head when Futaba started to retrieve hers. “ _Akira_ ,” Futaba said. “I’m an adult with a job. I can pay for myself.”

“Come on, I barely get to see you. Let me be the benevolent older brother.”

“Well, there are a lot of words to describe you, but I wouldn’t say _benevolent._ How about–”  

“Two tickets, please,” Akira said in English to the man standing behind the counter while Futaba rattled off some adjectives like “reckless, stubborn, spacey, show-off, impulsive…”

The ticket seller looked at Futaba strangely as Akira rummaged around in his wallet for some newly-converted euros. “Here,” he told the man, giving him a charming smile, and nodded his head in gratitude when he received the tickets in return.

“We’re making good progress,” Akira said cheekily, when Futaba had stopped listing words.

Futaba nodded wryly. “Airport level’s cleared. Got points for customs, currency exchange, baggage claim, and ticket-buying.”

“Now one final journey remains before the hotel,” Akira said solemnly.

“Yeah, and speaking of, what exactly is a water bus?”

“It’s… a boat, I guess,” Akira replied. “That transports people. This airport is still technically on the mainland, so a water bus is the easiest way to get to Venice.”

“Oh. Weird.”

“People who live around here use this just like regular transportation, you know.”

“Yeah, like people who live on a structure slowly sinking into the sea have th–”

“ _Futaba,”_ Akira cajoled, mimicking her tone from earlier. “Have some respect for the place?”

“Meh. Fine.”

“And just be thankful we’re getting to see it before it goes under.”

About half an hour later they were on the “bus”, luggage at their feet. Futaba immediately fell asleep, her head planted on Akira’s shoulder. Akira entertained himself for the duration of the hour-long ride by snapping shitty photos of the water blurring past the window, unable to keep the smile off his face. They would only be in Venice for five days, but he’d asked for a whole two weeks without assignments, so he could stay in Tokyo for a little longer before the trip. Soon he’d be seeing his old best friends, and he was in a place he’d never been before, ripe for exploring. It was impossible not to feel content.

When they finally got to their stop, Akira nudged the sleeping lump at his side. “Wake up, Futaba.”

“Mmrgh,” said Futaba, blinking blearily and slowly coming alive with much elbow-jostling and muttering.

The walk to the hotel was accomplished with Futaba’s razor-sharp sense of direction and no help from Akira, who had long since accepted that his navigation skills were sorely lacking and that yes, this was painfully ironic for someone who made a living jettisoning all over the world.

“Can’t you develop an app or something so I can take you wherever I go? Futaba Maps. Futabaquest. Futaba-Navi. “

“Sure. Just pay me up front.”

It was late in the afternoon, and the sun burned in the sky as Akira steadily filled his camera’s memory card with photos: Futaba’s profile turned towards the water, the colorful array of buildings lining the lagoon, an old gentleman leisurely passing them on his boat, some kids playing on a set of stairs. Akira smiled at locals as they walked by, shoes slapping against the cobbled streets, while Futaba spun around and took everything in with her eyes raised heavenward, snapping shots of her own with her smartphone. Akira had had a sense of what to expect, from photos he’d seen and from his time on the mainland, but the city seemed to be in a world all its own. He felt the old familiar urge to break off and acquaint himself with every corner, delve deeper until his camera held a complete record of his escapades– but now wasn’t the time. He had a wedding to attend.

“This is it, I guess,” Futaba said a little while later, gazing up at the face of the hotel building after the two of them had made their way over a short bridge over the water. Akira could tell it was clearly aged, but the whitewashed exterior and looming facade conveyed a sense of stately grandeur. Historic and elegant, it definitely seemed like a place Ann would choose.

Akira looked down at his phone. “Ryuji said he was gonna meet us in the lobby. I’ve been IM-ing him. Apparently, we’re among the last to arrive.”

“Been a while since you’ve seen Ryuji,” Futaba said thoughtfully.

“It sure has. I wonder how much he’s changed.”

“Well, I can tell you he’s still as loud.”

“I’ve just been assuming he’s gotten louder. C’mon, let’s go inside.”

They checked in and got their keys, thanking the woman at the desk, and then Akira looked around. “Now, to find–”

“Yo! Guys!”

Akira’s face burst into a grin at the sound of the still-familiar voice, and when he turned he saw his best friend standing at the entrance to the lobby, giving him a broad smile.

Ryuji was still short, stocky, with a slight slouch and well-muscled arms. He’d given up on being blond a while ago, but he’d kept the spiky hair he claimed was easiest to manage. Over time he’d lost the shifty, impatient expression that had gotten him pigeonholed as a troublemaker so many times before, and now he cut a larger-than-life, confident figure. Akira was suddenly so overwhelmingly glad to see him he thought, embarrassingly, that he might tear up.

Ryuji crushed him and Futaba in a hug and they exchanged hellos.

“It’s been so long, Ryuji,” Futaba said in a choked voice. “I was wondering how much longer I could possibly go on without you.”

“Dude, I saw you like last month when I came by Leblanc and you were there,” Ryuji replied.

“And for that whole month we’ve been apart, my heart has been heavy.”

Ryuji turned his attention to Akira. “Man, the last time I saw you, though, was… 4 years ago?”

Akira nodded, smiling wistfully. “That was right after I graduated, when I was working at Leblanc. And trying to figure out what the hell to do with my life.”

“Ha, I kinda miss those days. But hey…” Ryuji reached over and stretched out his hand to poke a finger at Akira’s glasses, _tap-tap_. “You’re back to wearing these fakes, dude?”

Akira grinned sheepishly and adjusted his frames. “Er, these are real, actually. At first I just needed them for reading, but then, I don’t know, my eyesight got worse.”

“Probably _karma_ ,” Futaba said pointedly, cutting her eyes at him from behind her own lenses. “For using my struggle as a fashion statement.”

Akira spread out his hands. “Hey, I did it so we could match!”

“Ugh,” Futaba said, rolling her eyes, but she was smiling.

Akira shook his head and grinned back. “You don’t appreciate anything I do for you.”

They sat down at a table near the check-in counter, and Akira lightly punched Ryuji’s arm. “So what’s been going on with you, man?”

“Aw, you know,” Ryuji replied, leaning back in his chair, “same old stuff. Nothin’ like your glamorous lifestyle.”

“If you call being at my editor’s total mercy and operating on a no-sleep schedule glamorous,” Akira said wryly. “Seriously, how are you doing?”

Ryuji smiled. “Honestly, I’ve been doin’ well. I really like what I do. Not like I make a shitload of cash or anything, though. If I’d known how much our teachers were getting paid at Shujin, I would’ve probably put in some more effort.” He considered. “Maybe.”

“How’re the kids?” Futaba asked, leaning forward with a smirk. “Being little terrors?”

“Well, they’re kids, so yeah, frequently. But most of the time they’re pretty great. There’s something so refreshing about kids. They haven’t learned how to bullshit yet, so they’re genuine all the time. Especially the ones who want to be athletes– they actually care about my classes.” He rubbed the back of his head awkwardly. “And some have been coming to me for advice and shit too, even though I’m just a gym teacher. It’s just nice that I get to be there for ‘em, y’know?”

“There’s no one better for the job than you,” Akira said, and Futaba nodded her agreement.

Ryuji flushed. “Yeah, well… no need to get sappy.”

After a few more minutes of catching up, the three of them started to make their way towards the elevator so Akira and Futaba could put their luggage in their rooms.

“And I specifically told this company about that back door before,” Futaba was saying as they rose from the table, “when I was heading up their cybersecurity consultation, y’know, but they ignored me! And now they’re coming crying to me with this breach on their hands.”

“Did you, uh, fix it?” Akira said.

She gave him a look. “Yeah, I _fixed it._  Child’s play, since I already knew how they’d gotten in. Of course, I did jack up the price for my services before I did! Ha ha. God, I hate corporations.”

“You’re scary sometimes, y’know,” Ryuji said, pushing the button for the elevator.

Futaba smiled wickedly. “Good.”

“What’s going on right now?” Akira asked as they got on the elevator, luggage in hand.

“Dinner’s in an hour and a half, but right now people are hanging out at the bar. I can introduce you to some of ‘em, if you want,” Ryuji replied.

“Sure,” Akira said. “When are we going to get to see the woman of the hour?”

“Ann and Makoto’ll be at dinner. They’re supposed to be checking some details with the caterer right now, I think.”

“Speaking of Makoto, what’s she like?” Akira said as the bell dinged for their floor and the elevator doors opened. He dragged his suitcase out into the hallway.

“Well, I still don’t know her that well, but…”

By the time Ryuji had finished filling them in, they’d left their things in their respective rooms and headed back down to the first floor. They had just started to walk towards the lobby when they caught a flash of a short, curly-haired woman hurrying in another direction.

“Oh,” Ryuji said, turning his head towards her. “Hey, Okumura!”

“Oh!” The woman paused in her rush and turned towards them. She was dressed professionally, but the large handbag she was carrying seemed filled to the brim with materials– Akira thought he saw more than one clipboard– and notepads covered entirely with ink. She had the demeanor of someone graceful and composed, but her flushed cheeks indicated recent exertion. “Hello, Sakamoto. Are these more guests?” She tilted her head. “Ah– I think I recognize you from some photos! Aren’t you friends of Ann’s?”

“Yup,” Akira said, smiling and shaking her hand. “I’m Akira Kurusu.”

“Futaba Sakura,” Futaba said, scratching the back of her head with one hand as she held out the other.

Okumura took it and beamed at both of them. “I’m Haru Okumura. It’s wonderful you two are here! But I’m very sorry– I can’t talk for long.” She consulted the watch on her wrist. “I promised I’d meet with the brides before dinner to go over a few things.“

“No problem,” Akira said easily. “I’m sure we’ll see you later.”

“Yes, of course! I’ll be going, then,” Okumura said, beaming. “Good luck with settling in!”

“Going over details, huh?” Futaba questioned after Okumura had left. “So… she’s the caterer?”

“Among other things. Okumura has her own catering business,” Ryuji said, clasping his hands behind his head and stretching. “But since she’s friends with Ann and Makoto and she knows Venice super well– spent summers in Italy as a kid or somethin’– she helped out with a lot of the planning.”

“Tough job,” Akira noted.

Ryuji nodded his agreement. “Yeah, she barely has any time.”

“Since I guess it’s question time,” Akira began, as the three of them made their way to the lobby. “This wedding’s gonna be Western-style, right?”

“Mostly,” Ryuji confirmed. “They’re keeping some traditional parts, though. **”**

“How modern,” Futaba said, with an exaggerated, formal tone.

“How positively droll,” Akira proclaimed regally. They both snickered at each other.

Ryuji watched them, bemused. “You guys are still on a totally separate wavelength from the rest of us, huh.”

“Alright!” Ryuji announced a few minutes later, when they’d reached the bar area. A little more than a dozen guests were milling around, talking amongst themselves.  “Let me introduce you to some people.”

“Yeah,” Futaba replied, glancing at the small crowd. “Just tell me everything you know about all of them before you do that.”

“...Why?”

“Well, if I don’t have any information, how am I supposed to talk to them?”

“You– you ask them about themselves! God, fine. Okay, that short man over there is–”  

Akira let his attention waver from their conversation as he raised his camera and looked through the viewfinder, absentmindedly zooming in on a few gathered guests. Faces and people blurred together when he stopped focusing the camera. It wasn't hard to forget that every face he saw had a whole life behind it, that there was no one who was only a part of the scenery. Akira liked people, liked to hear the stories they told, but it had taken him a while to grow from the jaded, secretive kid he’d been to someone who saw worth in others.

Anyone could be anyone when he saw the world like this. The short, stocky woman absorbed in conversation with another guest could be one of his university professors. The imposing figure standing with their arms folded could be the editor of a magazine he’d submitted photos to previously. Hell, the older person with a goatee could be Sojiro. And the tall man standing with his profile visible might even be Akira’s old boyfriend. They even had the same tawny hair.

Almost arbitrarily, Akira adjusted the focus.

_Sometimes_ , Akira would think later as he reflected on that moment,  _it was that easy._

Things came into focus as quickly as they blurred. There was a certain art to record-keeping with both photography and memory, a clearly-defined method with an implicit truth beneath the surface: once you felt something, once you finally captured that perfect shot or got what you’d been coveting, it would never really go away. Even if you let yourself forget or pretended it didn’t mean a thing, some small part of it would stay with you forever.

In the viewfinder, Goro Akechi raised his head and turned, just barely, enough for his eyes to meet Akira’s behind the lens, enough for his mouth to open slightly in surprise. 

* * *

Akira only took philosophy for the elective credit.

It was mostly a mistake. Intro-level classes were bad, classes revolving around things he couldn’t care less about were worse. He was sure that other people could find merit in studying theories from a thousand years ago, but personally, Akira could do without a bunch of old, dead men telling him how to think.

It was no wonder that in today’s class, he’d been slowly falling asleep as his hand resting on the fold-out desk propped up his chin. Dozing off for a little bit couldn’t hurt. He probably wouldn’t absorb anything even if he was awake, anyway.

“Excuse me!”

Couldn’t… hurt…

“You in the fourth row!”

_Shit._

Akira shot up to find the professor frowning straight at him and swallowed nervously. This professor almost never called on people in lecture, preferring to drone on (and on, and on, and on…). If he was calling out Akira specifically, he’d really fucked up this time.

“What’s your name?” the professor asked tersely, crossing his arms.

“Er, Kurusu, Professor,” Akira mumbled.

“All right, Kurusu. Perhaps you can tell me this. In Nietzschean theory, what is the term that refers to the idea of the man who represents the pinnacle of human achievement?”

Akira stared.

“Well?”

Akira rubbed the back of his head. “...Er. I’m not sure, but if I was him I could probably answer the question.”

The professor’s face pinched. A smattering of laughter could be heard from around the lecture hall.

... _In hindsight, I probably shouldn’t have said that._

“It appears Kurusu would rather crack jokes than take this class seriously,” the professor said loudly. “Akechi, could you explain for us?”

“Yes, Professor.”

Akira turned his head to see who was speaking.

The voice had come from someone sitting at the desk in the front of the room, to the right of the professor’s lectern. It was another student, a guy, with hair coming just past his shoulders and a sweater vest that would look ridiculous on anyone else but seemed to fit with his whatever prim, scholarly vibe he had going on. Akira suddenly remembered he was the professor’s assistant, who usually sat up front taking notes or having quiet conversations with the professor before class. He’d forgotten what year he was in. _Second, like me? No, he has to be older. Third?_

“The concept of the ideal, superior man, in Nietzsche’s view, is referred to as the  _Übermensch,"_  the assistant, Akechi, answered, eyes sweeping over the room. His voice was pleasant, measured, but had a note of rightful authority, like he was born to lead. Akira felt a shift in the classroom as other students sat up slightly or turned their heads, giving Akechi their attention. “By creating a new set of values, this figure would represent a solution to the problem of nihilism.”

The professor nodded. “Exactly. So it follows that…”

The lecture continued, but Akira’s eyes were still on Akechi. And suddenly, faster than Akira could register, Akechi’s gaze met his.

The eye contact hit Akira with a sudden, specific sensation. It felt like the moment in a conversation when two people started to speak at the same time, the slight awkwardness juxtaposed with the desire to really attune one’s self with another, to _know_. Akechi’s stare was contemplative, like he was trying to run an analysis on Akira just by looking at him, and his neutral expression made it difficult for Akira to scrutinize him in turn. Akira realized, suddenly, that he couldn’t tell which color Akechi’s eyes were.

Stubbornly, Akira refused to avert his gaze. _Maybe you can make me look dumb in front of all these people, but I can at least have the minor satisfaction of a staring contest victory._

After what seemed like forever, Akechi gave him a small, amused smile– so quick and subtle that Akira wasn’t sure if he’d actually seen it– before turning away.

_I win_ , Akira thought, looking back down at the desk, but instead of petty triumph he only felt a certain curiosity. There was something about Akechi that felt separate, as if he was looking back at Akira from behind a screen, or from a reality that didn’t correspond to Akira’s own.

There was another thing Akira had doubts about, too.

_How can anyone actually look good in a sweater vest?_

* * *

The second Goro looked into the camera felt like an hour, but in an instant, Akira dropped his camera and turned his back at the speed of light.

“Uhhh,” Futaba said. “Akira?”

“Oh my God,” Akira murmured to his shoes. “Oh, damn it to hell. Why did I do that?”

“What’s happening?” Futaba whispered, coming up next to him. “Are you okay?”

“Oh, God. I’m fine. I just saw my ex and turned around on instinct even though he already saw me and now I look ridiculous but I’m fine. Really.”

“Hey, why’s that Akechi guy looking over here?” came Ryuji’s curious voice from over Akira’s shoulder. “He’s staring really hard. Oh, now he’s walking over. Huh.”

“Wait,” Futaba said. “I remember that name... _Goro Akechi_ is here?”

“Wha?” Ryuji said. “You guys know him?”

“What do I do?” Akira whisper-yelled. “Do I turn around?”

“Well, he’s already on his way over!” Futaba hissed. “And now you kind of look like a freak because you’re just facing the wall!”

“Guys,” Ryuji said. “What’s going on?”

“If I already look like a freak, then what do I have to lose?”

“I don’t know, the last remaining shreds of your dignity?!”

“Hey,” Ryuji demanded. “Can someone–”

“Akira?”

Ryuji fell silent at once. Futaba cleared her throat. Mentally, Akira swore.

Very slowly, Akira’s back straightened. He took a calming breath. Then, with feigned bravado, he turned around.

“Goro,” Akira said, ignoring Ryuji’s confused murmur of _first names?_ “Hey.” He had hoped to sound exactly the right amount of casual, but instead his voice came out a little croaky. _Goddamnit._

“So,” said Goro Akechi. His tone was light enough, but the way his mouth formed the words, deliberate and unflinching, made them sound like an accusation. “It really is you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title stolen from the song of the same name by little joy  
> thanks for reading! more to come! nice! wow! cool!


	2. talking backwards

Back in university, Goro had always looked slightly out of place, like someone clinging too hard to an imposed standard of adulthood. It was one of the reasons Akira had been drawn to him– the way he seemed to exist on a different wavelength from the rest, the way he always seemed to be looking further ahead. Now he seemed… _severe,_ the way a schoolteacher might, with the manner of someone fully, finally aware of himself. His boyish face was more angular, the long hair a few inches shorter. One thing hadn’t changed– he had that same unreadable expression on his face. The obfuscating smile, the eyes that could be cooly neutral or condemning or, if you were lucky, genuinely warm– they were all elements that had occasionally resurfaced separately in Akira’s memory over the past few years, but it was a shock to see the pieces form a whole once again. _Nice-looking whole, though,_ Akira couldn’t help but note. But it probably wasn’t the best time to focus on that.

Akira had worked to be able to read that face, to identify the nuances that revealed the truth of whatever Goro was feeling. It was startling to see that now, he couldn’t tell what Goro was thinking at all.

“It’s been quite a while,” Goro continued, head tilted slightly as he regarded Akira. His look seemed calculating, as if he was trying to fit Akira’s presence into a schema.

“Yeah,” Akira said. He could feel his mouth twitching into a nervous smile as he felt Goro’s scrutiny on him, even as Goro’s face twisted into a small frown in response.  

“Soooo,” Ryuji began, voice ominously beginning to increase in volume. “Is anyone going to tell me how the hell you two know each other?”

Seeking to prevent any eardrum damages, Akira answered quickly. “Goro and I went to college together.”

“That’s correct,” Goro said, enigmatic smile back on.

Akira waited to see if Goro would continue, but when it seemed no addition was forthcoming, he decided to drop the bomb himself. “In fact," he began carefully, "we used to, ah... date.”

“Wait,” Ryuji said. “WHAT?”

From the bar, a few guests turned their attention to his outburst.

“Oh, look,” Futaba muttered to Akira. “He really has gotten louder since high school.”

Goro’s smile was slowly waning, lips starting to thin into a line. Akira scrambled to say something. “Uh, this is Futaba, my little sister. We travelled here together, actually.”

Futaba waved. “Yo.”

“The café-owner’s daughter, correct?” Goro said. At her surprised glance, he laughed slightly, demeanor softening by a little. “I recall Akira telling me a little about you… back then.”

Futaba smirked. “Well, look who’s got a mind like a steel trap.”

“So, uh, who do you know here? I’m from the bride’s side,” said Akira, and then realized what a profoundly stupid statement that was. “I mean the blonde bride’s side.” _He doesn’t know Ann, does he? I would have known._ _He looks like he could be a model, though. Wow, I almost said that out loud._

“I was invited by Makoto and her family. We’re close friends.”

It occurred to Akira that he had never before heard Goro refer to anyone as a _close friend._ Deciding this would not be an appropriate point to broach, he settled on “So… how’d you two meet?”

“We work with each other,” Goro replied. “Her older sister mentored both of us, in fact.”

“Oh.”

Akira had more questions, but Goro had already moved on. “And you’re acquainted with Takamaki?” Goro’s gaze slid to Ryuji before his attention was back on Akira. “And Sakamoto?”

Akira felt very aware that Goro’s attention was directed solely at him, laser-focused and with a certain expectation– like Goro was conducting an interrogation, or quizzing him with homework questions. _Well, I’m not going to let him rattle me._ “Yeah, we’ve all been friends since high school.”

“Ah,” said Goro, looking a little surprised. A question came to Akira’s mind, unbidden– did Goro have any friends he’d known for that long?

Before he could follow that train of thought, Goro gestured with a nod at Akira’s camera. “That looks professional.”

“Oh, this?” Whenever anyone else asked about his camera, Akira usually immediately launched into singing its praises, pointing out all the features and what he used them for, but he somehow felt like Goro would be distinctly unimpressed– or worse, pretend to be interested. “Yeah, I’m a travel photographer.”

“I see,” Goro said, tilting his head and giving Akira another one of those inscrutable looks. “How fitting.”

“...What do you mean by that?” Akira asked, a little wary.

Goro chuckled slightly, as if remembering a private joke. “I only thought that a wandering life would be appropriate for someone with such a rebellious spirit.”

The words stirred some kind of reaction deep in the recesses of Akira’s memory, but he couldn’t place their origin. “Goro–”

“I apologize, but I think I’m needed elsewhere at the moment,” said Goro, and his smile was so obviously feigned Akira was starting to wonder why the hell he even bothered. “It was truly a pleasant surprise to run into you here. I suppose I’ll be seeing you later.”

“Right, you will,” Akira replied, shuffling uncomfortably. “Uh, see ya.”

Taking his leave, Goro nodded politely at Ryuji and Futaba, gave Akira a last probing glance, and then was gone, turning on his heel and taking his customary long strides away from them until he’d retreated into the sparse crowd.

“Soooo,” Futaba said, after they’d all watched him leave. “That was weird.”

“Tell me about it,” said Ryuji. “He was acting all polite, but he seemed mostly annoyed. How did you even end up with that guy? I mean, he’s kind of a prick.”

Akira groaned, feeling like his brain was working more slowly than usual. “Hang on, I’m still trying to process the fact that he’s here. Man, of all the coincidences…”

“I can’t believe Niijima works with Akechi,” Futaba exclaimed. “What a twist!”

“Sure, you can call it that,” Akira said wryly. He felt a little like he had to sit down. “How much did I ever tell you about him, anyway?”

“I mean, not a ton. I just remember you being head-over-heels for this dude–”

“Head over  _heels_?” Ryuji squawked. “For _Akechi_?”

“–but how’d you and the Ice Prince over there actually wind up together?”

Akira sighed. “Y’know… things happen.”

“Things happen,” Futaba repeated, staring at him.

“He was in one of my classes, and it just… went from there. Not a super interesting story.”

“Well, no offense, Akira, but if you ask me he’s an asshole,” Ryuji declared. “Even before you got here he was ordering me around when we were helping to prepare stuff. Like, not telling me to do things, but sort of making suggestions until I realized I was already halfway through doing what he wanted me to do.“

“Yeah, he does that,” Akira said, a little wistfully.

“Dude,” Ryuji said incredulously. “You didn’t like it when he was rude to you, did you?”

“Nothing like that,” Akira said. _Now is not the time to talk about my, uh, preferences._ “It’s just… in college he was always so… composed. Guarded, even. You really had to work to get a reaction out of him.”

“Well, you definitely did just now,” Futaba said breezily. “Whenever you’re not looking he looks over here like you’re his next meal.”

“Really?” Akira said, instantly turning his head.

Before he could, Futaba stepped in front of his line of sight. “Akira.” She put her hands on her shoulders and gave him a look, which was a slightly difficult task when he was more than a head taller than her. Akira bent his head down a little to make it easier. She nodded her thanks and continued. “Listen to me. Do not ruin this wedding with your penchant for drama–”

“Whaaat?”

“–and your weird attraction to pretentious, pretty men who know big words,” she continued, finally letting him go with a gentle push to his chest. She regarded him with exasperation. “Seriously, what even is your type?”  

“Oh, come on,” Akira protested. “Futaba, don’t be crazy. There’s no way I would do that. Ryuji, back me up.”

“I mean, she’s right about the whole drama thing,” Ryuji said doubtfully.

Akira sputtered incredulously. “I can’t believe you two would say that! I’ve never been treated with more disrespe–”

“Dude, shut up,” Ryuji said, at the same time Futaba scoffed “Shut _up_ , Akira.”

“I won’t be silenced, so listen up, ye of little faith,” Akira announced. “This trip is about Ann and Niijima, wherever they are. No one should be interested in my exciting, sordid romantic past,” he added graciously.

“Why isn’t anyone interested in my sordid romantic past?” bemoaned Akira half an hour later as he dramatically fell backwards onto Futaba’s hotel bed.

“No one cares,” said Futaba, eyes not moving from her laptop’s screen. “God, the connection here is shit.”

Akira _tsk-_ ed as he rolled his eyes back in his head. “You would think one of those people I met would at least ask me about it when I mentioned I know Goro.”

“I’m working, Akira, I can’t sit back and watch your self-pity.”

“Work,” Akira said gloomily. Futaba dabbled in software engineering, app development, freelance web design, and a myriad of other things that Akira, being artistically oriented and lacking a genius-level IQ, couldn’t begin to wrap his head around. “I thought we were here to celebrate our dear friend, who I have yet to see, which I am annoyed about, joining hands with her significant other in holy m–”

“Work doesn’t just stop existing because we’re out of the country,” Futaba cut him off, clearly not interested in hearing one of Akira’s monologues. “And Ann’s probably still doing wedding things. We’re gonna see her later tonight at dinner, so don’t be whiny.”

“How are you so well-informed?” Akira said, idly staring at the ceiling.

“Because while you were acting like a teenager and trading glances with Akechi like a frightened puppy, I was out getting information.”

“Hey, I’m either a teenager or a puppy. You can’t use two… things… similes… like that. Also, you? Were out getting information?”

“Hey,” Futaba snapped. “I hate talking to strangers, but I like knowing things.” At Akira’s disbelieving glance, she sighed. “Okay, I just got Ryuji to tell me everything and then came back here when I couldn’t deal with people anymore. Here.” She reached under the pillow and tossed a folded-up paper at Akira.

He propped his chin up with one hand and used the other to hold it up.

 

ITINERARY: WELCOME TO ITALY!

 _Thursday:_ Guest arrivals, dinner at 8 PM

 _Friday:_ Historic guided tour of Venice– come see the the city with us!

 _Saturday:_ Family dinner and brunch

 _Sunday:_ Wedding ceremony at 5 PM, reception following

 

“Well,” Akira said, “I was right about Ann keeping us busy.”

“Just watch TV or something for a little bit,” said Futaba, putting her headphones on. Her eyes assumed the vacant stare that meant she was gearing up to not respond to anything Akira said for the foreseeable future. “Then we’ll get food and force Ann to acknowledge us.”

“Mmph,” Akira said. “Fine.”

“And I can watch you struggle through your uncomfortable tension with Akechi.”

“Oh, shut up.” Akira reached for the TV remote.

* * *

It wasn’t stalking if Akira was using publicly available resources. Or at least that was his rationale when he looked Akechi up in the university directory online.

It didn’t say much, other than his university e-mail address and his major: criminal justice. The rest he gleaned from casually name-dropping him during conversations with classmates and taking mental note of what he learned.

A somewhat clearer picture emerged of the elusive Goro Akechi. A third-year student, top of his class, perfect entrance exam score. Often seen at academic events or club socials, but a rare sight at casual parties. Popular with girls and guys, but apparently not seeing anyone (interesting information, to be sure). Had indicated an interest in law school.

Akira couldn’t help but want to know more. There was just something about Akechi that seemed– different.

Oh, and he was hot. That was also definitely a factor.

It was easy enough to loiter around after lecture was over one day. He pretended to pore over his nonexistent notes and took a great deal of time carefully placing things into his backpack until he was the last student still left in the hall. After a while of this, Akechi had collected his things and risen to leave as well.

Akira waited until the professor was out of the room and Akechi was walking up the steps before he rose and followed. When Akechi was almost at the door, Akira said to his back “Um, hey.”

Akechi stopped and turned around. “Ah,” he said, putting a hand on his hip. He smiled slightly at Akira. “If it isn’t the Übermensch.”

Akechi stood at the top of the stairs while Akira was just below, a mere three steps separating them. This was as close as they’d ever been, Akira realized. Looking at him, Akira suddenly understood the answer to what had been bothering him all week.

_Red. His eyes are a deep red._

Coming back to the present conversation, Akira grinned sheepishly. “Oh, you remember that.”

“It was quite a memorable interruption.”

Akira shifted a little. “So actually, I have a question.”

“Oh,” Akechi said. He carefully set his briefcase down at his feet and crossed his arms, looking at Akira expectantly. “Well, you have my attention.”

Akira took a breath. “It’s about… philosophy in general, I guess. Like you said, the whole idea of this hypothetical superman guy completely negates nihilism as a concept, doesn’t it? Because it’s not like you can say nothing matters, including ethics, when you have the Übermensch out there holding everybody to his standards. So what’s the point of it all? Why even study these concepts if they’re so easily disproven or contradictory?”

... _Well, that didn’t go as bad as I expected it to, actually._

Carefully watching Akechi’s face for a reaction, he expected his eyes to narrow, or his lip to curl. He definitely didn’t anticipate the sudden smile to widen on Akechi’s face.

_Is that good?_

“You have an interesting viewpoint,” Akechi said. “Not very well-articulated, granted, but I can comprehend the quiddity of your argument.”

“Quiddity,” repeated Akira.

“I, personally, think of philosophical theories as simply guiding principles– frameworks that contain possible keys to making sense of human nature. Maybe I read Hegel, or study Nietzsche, but I’m not necessarily accepting all their ideas– which can often contradict each other, as you said– as the utmost truth. In fact, I’d go so far as to say it’s essential to maintain a critical mindset while interacting with such notions.“

His little smile as he looked directly at him makes Akira feel suddenly like he was the only person in the world. _Oh, man, do I already have it this bad?_

Akira cleared his throat. “Well, though I don’t have your academic perspective…” _That goes without saying, dumbass._ “I guess I can respect that. Thinking about things like this critically, I mean."  _Okay, time to get to the point._ “Maybe we could talk about this another time. Over a meal. Or coffee. Or nothing. Whatever works.”

Akechi looked highly amused, but Akira was hoping it was amused in the _haha-Akira-your-boldness-is-so-charming-that-I’m-immediately-endeared_ way and not the _it’s-hilarious-that-you-think-you’re-worth-my-time_ way.

Akechi opened his mouth, and Akira braced himself to find out. But the words he spoke were among the last Akira expected to hear.

“You have a paper due soon, don’t you?” Akechi said pleasantly.

Akira blinked. “Sorry?”

“A paper. The topic is the development of anthropocentrism, if I recall correctly. I do hope you’re planning to finish it. I assist the professor with grading, so I’ll have the pleasure of reading your argument. You’ve caught my interest, now; I’ll make sure to look over yours personally.”

Akira opened his mouth and closed it. For all intents and purposes, it sounded like a rejection– Akechi was basically telling him to leave him alone and do his homework. But there was a certain cadence to his voice that hinted at the opposite intention. _Maybe this is how academic overachievers flirt._

“Well,” Akira said, regaining his composure. “If you’re examining my paper _personally,_ I’ll be sure not to disappoint.”

Akechi smiled that coveted smile at him again and turned to face the door, looking at Akira over his shoulder. “I’m very interested in making more sense of how you think.” The way he said _interested_ was not without a certain pointed intent. “I need to take my leave now, but I’ll see you in class. It’s been lovely to speak with you, Kurusu.”

When his footsteps faded, Akira was alone in the lecture hall, left to try and process the conversation he’d just had.

“Interested,” Akira mumbled to himself, and grinned.

* * *

 “Where’s Ann?” said Akira, scanning the dining area. The small restaurant they were in was on the first floor of the hotel, a little nook attached to the lobby. A few people had gotten there before them, but there were still a good amount of tables and chairs waiting to be filled.

“We’ve only been in here for, like, two minutes,” said Futaba, though she was looking around as well. “But yeah, where the hell is Ann?”

Though Akira would never admit it to Futaba, he was also keeping watch for someone else. It wasn’t as if he wanted to run into Goro, specifically. Futaba could accuse him of having an addiction to all things self-destructive, but Akira preferred to call it an occasionally lethal mixture of stubbornness and curiosity. Even with that particular personality trait, though, he wasn’t looking to impale himself on the sword that was Goro Akechi anytime soon. It was more like he was on high alert, subconsciously attuned to the sounds in the room so he’d notice as soon as he heard Goro’s voice or saw a glimpse of him in the corner of his eye. Since he hadn’t seen anything, it looked like Goro wasn’t here yet.

“Yo.” That was from Ryuji, sauntering over to join them.

“Hey,” Akira said. “Any idea how this is gonna go?”

“It’s just a casual thing, I guess. Ann messaged me earlier; she’s getting here soon with Makoto and then we’re gonna eat. No speeches or anything fancy.”

Futaba crossed her arms. “I didn’t know how to dress. Good thing I went with uber-casual.”

“Do you really still need your backpack?” Akira said, noticing it hanging off her shoulders.

“Oh,” Futaba said, glancing back at it. “Um, it has my laptop in it.”

Akira raised his eyebrows. “You need it now?”

Futaba shrugged evasively. “You never know!”

They spent a while making aimless conversation. Ryuji launched into a story about a person on his flight who’d gotten obnoxiously drunk and called for the flight attendant nine times in one hour. Akira tried to pay attention, but his mind kept wandering. He couldn’t stop himself from sneaking periodic glances around the restaurant, trying to find–

“Who’re you looking for, Akira?” Futaba asked sweetly.

Akira jumped a little and immediately dropped his gaze. “Uh, Ann, obviously,” he answered, laughing nervously.

“Really? Because–” Futaba pointed towards the entrance– “she’s right over there.”

Akira turned his head, and there she was– Ann, standing at the entrance to the dining area, laughing and talking to a guest as she swept some hair behind her ear.

Seeing her brought back a rush of memories. Akira felt high school all over again– saw the stiff, proud line of her back as she sat in front of him in class, pretending not to hear the whispers from their classmates or see the pointed looks. He saw Ryuji getting chewed out by Kawakami outside the door and Ann looking up from her notes, mouth twisted into a concerned frown. He remembered being in the library, trying to get the student scared of his reputation to please lend him _Cry of Cthulhu_ , and meeting Ann’s eyes behind one of the shelves. All of it came flooding back– the three of them, hanging out on the rooftop after classes ended, kinda-studying, mostly gossiping. Ryuji and Akira buying sodas at the convenience store, talking about family and TV shows and figuring out how to get by. Ann hitting the back of Ryuji’s head with her bookbag whenever he said something stupid. Akira feeling like maybe he finally belonged.

Ann looked beautiful, now, fresh-faced and radiant, with her hair tied up in a ponytail. On her arm was the woman Akira recognized as Makoto from photos, an elegant figure with short, choppy hair and a calm, satisfied smile. They looked good together, or more specifically good _for_ each other, in little ways Akira could identify almost immediately, like the way Makoto leaned into Ann’s shoulder and how Ann curled a protective arm around her in response.

Akira almost didn’t want to disturb them, so untouchable they looked as they talked animatedly to their guests, but Futaba turned to him and said, “Come on,” and then they were on their way across the room.

Ann saw them before he got there, meeting his eyes from a few feet away, and immediately said “Akira! Futaba!”, breaking free from her group of devotees and running over to them.

She crushed Akira in a hug before he could speak, and did the same to Futaba, laughing as she broke away. “You guys are really here!”

Akira beamed. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“Same here,” said Futaba, smiling, “though I did have some, uh, brief doubts.”

Ann took Futaba’s hands in hers. “Futaba,” she said. “I know you weren’t sure about coming. Thank you. Seriously. I’m so happy you’re here, and so is Makoto.”

“Oh, y’know, it’s nothing,” Futaba mumbled, but she looked into Ann’s eyes and smiled.

“What are you talking about?” Akira said, feigning confusion. “We’re still in high school. We’re gonna head to Leblanc after this and study for one of Kawakami’s tests.”

“Shut up,” Ann said, laughing and swatting Akira’s arm. “Trust me, I can barely believe this is happening either. But I’m happy. Really happy.”

“I can tell,” Akira said, smiling. “If I thought there was something wrong, I’d tell you.”

“Thank you,” Ann said, squeezing his hand. “I know you would. That’s why you’re still my best friend.”

They grinned at each other for a moment, then Ann shook her head. “Enough of this dumb sappy stuff. Come meet Makoto!”

Ann launched into a stream of chatter as she beckoned them forwards. “So how was the flight? Everything was good? Was it easy to find your way here from the airport? I know a couple of people were having trouble…”

Futaba started to answer, but Akira’s attention was diverted when his arm brushed against someone walking past. Instinctively turning his head, he was taken aback when his eyes met Goro’s.

He was only able to register the other’s surprised face before Goro sharply turned away and Ann was pulling on his arm again, leading him over to the table Niijima was now sitting at, with Ryuji standing nearby. Akira realized, bafflingly, that his heart rate had increased. _Great. Now I’m actually acting like a… teenage puppy._

“Here she is!” Ann said proudly, after they’d maneuvered their way through the crowd and reached the table. “My fiancé. We’re getting married!”

“I think they understand that by now, Ann,” Makoto said, smiling wryly, but she looked pleased as she stood up.

“It’s great to finally meet you, Niijima,” Akira said, shaking her hand.

She smiled. “Please, Makoto is fine. And it’s wonderful to meet you two as well. Ann’s been telling me all about what you went through together in high school.” She laughed. “It sounds strange, but I kind of feel like I already know you.”

“Ah, high school,” Ryuji said. He paused. “It sucked. But I’m glad I had these two with me.” He slung an arm around Akira’s shoulder and grinned as Akira ducked his head and laughed, Ann shaking her head and smiling in return.

Futaba had remained silent, standing stiffly to the side, but Ann easily pulled her into the chair to her right. The rest of them took their seats as well.

“God, I’m hungry,” Ann said, laying her head down on the table. “And tired. Dealing with my parents is exhausting. And all the other wedding stuff is, too, but mostly my parents.”

“They’re not _that_ bad,” Makoto said.

“My mom asked you why your handbag wasn’t designer.”

Makoto sighed. “Okay, they’re a little that bad. But I’m sure I can grow to love them.”

“A Herculean task,” Ann sighed, but she grinned at her. “I bet you can manage it, though.”

“How many people did you guys end up inviting?” Akira asked.

“Mostly just close family and friends. Oh, and Makoto’s boss is here too. We decided to keep it pretty small, just everyone who’s the most important to us,” Ann said, exchanging a smile with Makoto.

Dinner was something Akira couldn’t pronounce that ended up being mostly cheesy pasta. He curled some noodles around his fork and found himself watching Ann and Makoto. The way they acted around each other was so close as to almost be cliché, all furtive glances and smiles and little gestures that seemed like some kind of secret language.

 _Have I ever felt like that about somebody else?_ Akira thought. It wasn’t an easy question to answer. When you were in love, did you know it immediately, a lightning-strike realization like in the movies? Or was it a painfully gradual process of understanding, drawing connections between subtle signs and reactions, picking out symptoms like you would to diagnose an illness?

Ann, probably noticing Futaba hadn’t said much, turned to her when there was a lull in the conversation. “Futaba, have you been keeping up with the news about that cybercrime law they just passed back home?”

“Of course,” Futaba replied immediately. “You know about it?”

“I don’t know a thing!” Ann said cheerfully. “But Makoto does.”

“It was more harsh than I expected,” Makoto said, leaning forward in her chair, and before long the two of them were engaged in discussion.

Akira liked Makoto, he decided. She was cordial but quick-witted, and seemed especially smart and capable– necessary qualities for anyone planning to spend the rest of their life with Ann. Akira smirked at his own joke.

“What’s so funny?” Ryuji said curiously.

Akira waved a hand and took a sip of water. “Aw, nothing.”

His eyes eventually drifted to Goro, who was chatting with another guest at another table across the room. His face carried an easy smile and he seemed relaxed as he brushed some hair behind his ear. Akira suddenly remembered Goro’s frown when he saw Akira back in the lobby and felt irrationally angry at the person he was speaking with.

 _I’m just annoyed because he clearly doesn’t want me around._ Akira wasn’t a fool, but he thought it might not have been a stretch for the two of them to at least be friendly. The conversation they’d had had been stilted and uncomfortable, though, and from what Akira was slowly remembering about how to read Goro, it was obvious he wasn’t pleased to see Akira.

_And it’s not like I need everyone to love me, but that’s frustrating._

After everybody had finished eating, someone suggested the group of guests head outside into the small, fenced-in garden near the back of the building. It was dark outside by now, but there were enough lights to guarantee they could see.

Someone started playing music from their phone, some radio hit Akira had heard a million times before, and then it began– the dreaded act of mingling, the same old getting-to-know-you questions. Akira looked over at Futaba, but she was still talking to Ann and Makoto. Ryuji had disappeared from sight, probably to speak with someone else. And Goro was–

 _Must stop instinctively looking for Goro._ But Akira had already seen him, hanging back from the rest of the guests near the door that led back inside. He was sipping on a drink from the bar, sitting on a fold-out chair near a small table, and looking lost in some unreachable contemplation as he watched the crowd.

Akira kind of wanted to go bother him.

 _No way that’s a good idea._ But he couldn’t help himself. His relationship with Goro had been– okay, fine, he admitted it– one of the most significant ones in his life, and it was ridiculous for them to pretend like they barely knew each other.

 _Right_ , Akira thought to himself, taking a sip of his drink. _This is stupid. There’s no reason why I can’t talk to him._ He took one more glance at Goro and decided to walk over. _Okay_ , _I’m going in…_

As he approached, Goro looked up and noticed him. _Operation start._ “Hey,” Akira said, waving tentatively. “Had a good time at dinner?”

Goro hesitated, then replied with a smile that could almost be genuine. “Evening, Akira. I had a pleasant meal, yes.”

 _See?_ Akira thought to himself. _Everything’s fine. He hasn’t ripped my head off yet._

There was silence between them for a moment as Akira carefully sat down in another chair by the table. From a few feet away, Akira could hear Ann laughing at something. Light conversation bubbled up around them, lending to the laid-back atmosphere. Akira listened to the tinny sound of the music coming from phone speakers and found himself reflecting on the way Goro said his name. It was so unchanged from how he used to speak it, inquiring and a little commanding all at once–

“Akira,” Goro said.

Akira’s head immediately snapped up like he’d just been called on in class. “Huh?’

Goro didn’t look at him, eyes fixed ahead. “Pardon my candor, but I’d just like to make something clear from the onset.”

“...Shoot.”

“I am not going to sleep with you this weekend.”

“Oh,” Akira said. He tried to think of a way to even begin formulating a response to the words that had just come out of Goro’s mouth and settled on “I see.”

There was a brief pause.

“So…” Akira began carefully, unable to help himself. “Do you think maybe later on you would be open to reconsidering that at all, or–”

“Goodbye, Akira,” Goro said stiffly, setting his glass down on the table and standing up.

“Hey, wait!” Akira protested to Goro’s retreating back, suppressing laughter. “Come on, I was just joking!”

But Goro was already through the door, and Akira was left to snicker by himself.

 _Okay,_ that _was definitely not a good idea, but_ _he’s seriously just too easy._ And where the hell did Goro get off saying that, anyway? _I was trying to be friendly! And he immediately assumes I just want to fuck him_. Well, it wasn’t as if Akira would be totally opposed to the idea, if he wasn’t sure it would open up an emotional can of worms that… Huh. He’d lost his train of thought because now he was thinking about sleeping with Goro. And remembering things about him that Akira was sure Goro didn’t want him to remember.

Akira smirked into his drink.

He recalled Futaba’s words about not ruining the wedding with his dick, or whatever, and Ryuji reluctantly agreeing about his “penchant for drama”. _Ye of little faith indeed._ Well, it seemed that wouldn’t be a problem; it was clear Goro didn’t want anything to do with Akira. The thought still bothered him, but–

Maybe it was for the best. Dredging up messy feelings about an old relationship wasn’t a rabbit hole Akira was prepared to go down. Especially not when his best friend was getting married.

A few more people were starting to go inside now, the yard slowly emptying. Akira decided to stay for a little longer and walked around to the edge of the area, where water was gently flowing from a lighted fountain. He sat down at its edge and closed his eyes, trying to clear his head.

“Hey, stranger,” came a voice from behind him.

Akira turned and saw Ann, standing with her hands on her hips.

“Got away from all your fans?” he asked, smiling at her.

“Somehow, I managed. What are you up to?”

“Just thinking about how everyone thinks I’m a slut,” Akira replied.

“Well, aren’t you?” Ann took a seat next to him.

“Depends on how drunk I am,” Akira said, holding up his glass. “Look, it’s still full.”

Ann scoffed and smiled at him, looking almost ethereal with the light from the fountain covering her features in a glow. They shared a moment of companionable silence, listening to the rush of water.

“How’ve you been, Akira?” Ann said.

“Right now?” Akira answered. “Jet-lagged.”

“Ha-ha,” Ann said, kicking at his foot. “Seriously, what’s been going on with you? You’re such a hard person to get a hold of these days.”

“ _I’m_ hard to get a hold of?” Akira said, giving her a look.

Ann smiled sheepishly. “...Okay, point taken.”

Akira laughed. “First of all, I really am super jet-lagged. Seriously, I don’t even know what time it is anymore. Second, I’ve been doing pretty well. Less feeling lost and more… getting out there.”

“Good. I like to know how you’re doing. At least send me a postcard from one of those places you visit sometime.”

He grinned at her. “Will do.”

“About Akechi,” Ann began, and Akira laughed dryly. “It’s not gonna be… awkward for you, is it?” She looked apologetic. “I wish I’d known so I could’ve told you or something…”

“Nah, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it. I don’t have a problem with him or anything. Things between us back then just… stopped working, you know, the way things do.” Ann nodded in understanding as Akira took a sip of his drink. “It would be nice if he wasn’t so cold with me, but that’s the way he is.”

“Cold, huh?” Ann said thoughtfully, putting her hands to her chin. “He seemed perfectly pleasant to me, but I guess you know him a lot better.”

“He may seem fine, but I can tell he’s bothered.” Akira looked away. “He always hid how he felt. It just sucks that I’m the reason he’s doing it now.”

Ann made a sympathetic noise. “Maybe you two will be able to… well, leave things on better terms, I guess?”

“I doubt it. We haven’t talked since he graduated. Actually, I’m pretty sure he blocked me on Facebook.”

“...Wow. That’s some next-level pettiness.”

“I know. And like I said, I didn’t even think things ended that badly. I think he just regretted…” Akira tried to find a way to voice his thoughts. “...making himself vulnerable, I guess. Wanted to forget he ever did.”   

Ann considered it. “But letting the other person see that vulnerable side of you is the whole point of relationships. Like with Makoto. When I first met her, I was falling all over myself to look smart and interesting. But now that we know each other so well, I can let her in and show her all the sides of myself there are.”

“Ah, yes, your many sides that are neither smart nor interesting,” Akira joked, and Ann kicked him in the shin again.

“Ow!” Akira complained, but he grinned at her. “I’m really, really happy for both of you, y’know.”

Ann beamed at him. “I know you are. Thank you, Akira, seriously. And who knows? Before I know it I could be getting an invitation to _your_ wedding.”

“Some of us don’t have lawyer spouses to support us. I’m married to the hustle, Ann.”

Ann rolled her eyes and chuckled. “Please never say that again.” She leaned over and put her head on his shoulder. They sat there for a short while, saying nothing.

“Akira,” Ann said quietly, after a few moments. “You’re happy, right?”

“I am,” Akira replied.

“Good. And I’m always here for you, y’know. This doesn’t change anything.”

“Don’t be dumb,” Akira said softly. “Of course it doesn’t.”

She raised her head and looked at him with a smile, a wordless understanding between them.

“God, I’m exhausted,” Ann said, after a second. “We should go back to everyone else, though.” She stood up and stretched, grinning at Akira. “Busy day tomorrow! We’re going gallivanting.”

“Well, I can never say no to gallivanting,” Akira replied, smiling back at her. She held out her hand for him, and taking it, he got to his feet.


	3. love → building on fire

“Empiricism is…” Akira drummed his pen against the arm of his chair. “The belief that you can only obtain knowledge from experience.”

“Very good,” Akechi said, placing the last flashcard on the table. They’d finished with Akira’s pile.

Akira leaned forward. “Let me quiz you.”

“All right,” Akechi said mildly, reaching over to pull his own cards from his bag, long hair falling over his face, and Akira felt a certain anticipation rising within him.

When he’d gotten his graded paper back a month and a half ago, Akechi’s handwriting had filled the pages with little quips and corrections. Reading them had felt like sharing in something personal– a window into a secret internal dialogue. After that, it was easy enough to start conversations with Akechi. They’d carved out a friendly dynamic that was characterized by potential. It was a relationship, or so it seemed to Akira, in which it was always possible that the right combination of words could unlock something deeper.

And something like that had happened the afternoon Akechi considered him, smiled his little smile and said “If you’d like, we could study together.”

Akira was coming to learn a lot about Akechi. He was left-handed, for one thing. He had two kinds of laughs: one polite and pleasant, more of a way to respond to somebody than anything, and another that started with a muffled giggle and turned into something unmistakably genuine. He was good at being around people, but he preferred quieter places. He had a way of getting what he wanted, with the help of a carefully-calibrated charm, whether it was from the student working at the library or the professor he assisted for Akira’s class.

Akira wanted to know more.

“Chapter 20 of the penal code,” answered Akechi, after Akira had read aloud the first term. He had his eyes closed, the way he always did when they went over things like this. When Akira had asked about it, Akechi had only said it allowed him to concentrate better.

It suited Akira just fine. It gave him more opportunity to stare at Akechi without getting caught. “Right. Which cases fall under the jurisdiction of the summary courts?”

Because Akechi was definitely nice to look at, with his long eyelashes and bow lips and otherwise soft features. “Civil trials involving claims under 900 million yen, and some criminal cases of lesser consequence.” And when his eyes narrowed as he was thinking, whenever they did this, it was definitely attractive in a way that made Akira take immediate notice.

...Which was ridiculous, because they were just looking over _flashcards._ “The body of law enacted after the Meiji Restoration, and its character.” There was no way Akira could find _flashcards_ hot.

“The Civil Code, modeled after the German law, split into five books.” The things and people that tended to appeal to Akira usually had aspects that marked them as very obviously out of the ordinary.

“That’s right. What year was the Code of Criminal Procedure enacted?” But wasn’t there something about Akechi that made him seem _other_ , in the kind of way Akira always found himself hopelessly attracted to? Akira couldn’t put his finger on it, but it was there.

“1948.” Or maybe he was just overthinking. It had been a while since he’d had a real interest, that went beyond surface-level, in anybody. Possibly he was just latching onto the first pretty face that came along and seeing what he wanted to see.

“...I said 1948.” It sure was a pretty face, though. And Akechi’s having that kind of self-aware intelligence certainly didn’t hurt–

“Kurusu.” Akechi’s eyes opened, and suddenly they were looking right at each other.

“Oh,” Akira said, breaking free from his little reverie. Akechi had the beginnings of a little smug smile on his face, like he knew exactly what Akira was thinking. He probably did. “Uh, sorry. That was right.”

“Maybe we should stop for today,” Akechi said after a moment, decisively closing his notebook, and yup, that was definitely a smirk on his stupid pretty face.

 _Can’t argue with that._ They’d been at it for a while, and Akira’s attention was rapidly waning. But he wasn’t quite ready to say goodbye to Akechi just yet. “I could use a boost, though. Do you want to come with me?” Akira said. He made his tone casual. “To get coffee.”

Akechi hesitated for a second, then looked at him and smiled. “Coffee sounds lovely.”

* * *

Akira positioned his camera. The lighting wasn’t ideal outside, but for a few basic photos of the area, it didn’t matter. _If anything, they’ll be something to show Sojiro,_ he thought absently as he focused and clicked the shutter button. Right as he did, though, Ryuji suddenly stepped into view.

Akira groaned a little and pulled the camera away from his face, examining the result. There it was– Ryuji’s blurry figure, right in the corner of the frame. Akira sighed.

“Oops,” Ryuji said, coming up next to him and peering over his shoulder. “Did I get in your shot?”

Instead of replying, Akira held the camera up to where he could see it.

“Oh, sorry.” Ryuji turned to him and started to say something else, but when he saw Akira’s face he stopped suddenly and snorted.

“What?” Akira said, frowning petulantly.

“You looked so annoyed just now,” Ryuji snickered. “It’s funny to see you so focused on something.”

Akira kicked him in the shin.

“Ow! Dude!”

“Oh, shit, that’s not your bad leg, is it?”

“No, it just hur– OW! Why’d you do it AGAIN?!”

The main feature of St. Mark’s Square was the famous basilica, a grand, looming cathedral that rose up above the city center. The rest of the space was an open enclosure, lined with long, arched arcades that formed the boundary around the square. It was a good place to start the little tour that had been planned for them, a classic Venetian fixture that spoke to the historic majesty of the city. If only there weren’t so many pigeons loitering around. Akira gave one a cool stare. It looked back at him, unruffled, before flapping its wings and flying away in the opposite direction. Akira felt oddly rejected.

It was a little after ten, the morning well on its way and the chiming of the clock tower still ringing in his ears. The willing members of the wedding party had loosely organized into a tour group for the day. Akira stretched, blinking rapidly. Jet lag had impeded his sleep, but by now he was well-accustomed to getting by mostly on caffeine and hope. He’d joked with Futaba about the sheer, intense thrill brought on by looking at “super old shit” providing enough endorphins to keep both of them awake, but Akira really did enjoy the experience of seeking out pieces of history. It was a part of his job to find spots that had weathered the test of time. Those places always had their own special tales to tell– and Akira was always a sucker for a good story. Not that he’d share that information freely with just anyone. _It would ruin my image._

Akira noticed Goro standing near Makoto and Ann farther away, fanning himself and frowning with his other hand affixed to his hip. Akira grinned to himself. _No way a dress shirt is comfortable clothing in this weather._ Even after all these years, Goro was still remarkably poorly-equipped to deal with the heat. Akira felt vindicated. _Ha ha. No matter how much of a show-off you are, no mortal man can win against the weather!_

Futaba was standing close by, idly people-watching. Akira walked over to her. “Having a good time?”

“Yeah, actually. I’m not used to walking around this much, but Venice is pretty cool.” She crossed her arms and smiled, a little self-consciously. “I can almost sorta kinda understand why you feel the need to go running all around the globe. Almost.”

Akira laughed. “I’m just glad you like it.”

“Yeah. Maybe I should try traveling more, and not just when old friends get married.”

“Excuse me,” a firm voice said from behind Akira.

The source of the interruption, Akira saw as he turned around, was a person he hadn’t spoken to before. It was a tall man with a serious face and an upright posture that seemed to indicate an equally straightforward disposition. His dark, longish hair was swept to the side, and from under his bangs he regarded Akira with an intent, focused gaze. Akira vaguely recalled seeing him around before, so he must have been a part of the wedding party.

He was pretty attractive, Akira couldn’t help but notice. He decided to say something smooth, but before he could open his mouth the man was already addressing Futaba. _Ouch._ “You did say just now that someone getting married is an old friend of yours, correct?”

Futaba looked baffled and vaguely threatened, but before she could reply Ryuji was addressing the stranger instead. “High school, Kitagawa,” he cut in. He’d jogged over when he’d seen them talking. “Same as me, like I was telling you.“

“Excellent,” the guy whose name was Kitagawa, apparently, replied briskly. “That is still far longer than I have been in acquaintance with either of the brides. I must ask you for information regarding a project I am undertaking. If I am to find inspiration, I must pursue every angle and exhaust all possible options.”

Ryuji sighed. “Suit yourself, dude, but like I told you, I really don’t think you’re gonna find anything just by interrogating everyone here.”

“Wait just a second,” Futaba said suddenly. “Who even are you?” Akira watched her face for any sign of discomfort, but if anything, she seemed amused by the stranger’s little spiel.

The man bowed slightly. “I apologize for not introducing myself earlier. I am Yusuke Kitagawa, an artist.”

“I’m Akira Kurusu,” Akira said, giving a little wave.

“Futaba Sakura,” Futaba said, laconic.

“And it’s true,” Akira added. “We’ve known Ann since we were all teenagers.”

“So, what’s this stuff about inspiration?” Futaba demanded.

“I am currently in the process of creating my next piece, a painting that will commemorate Ann and Makoto’s wedding. I plan to present it to them after the ceremony. But despite my best efforts, I have found nothing to guide my brush. I can only assume that it is because I do not know enough about what made Ann and Makoto the people they are today.” He nodded to himself. “To rectify this, I am seeking accounts from people such as yourselves.”

Before Akira could say anything, Futaba immediately replied “Sounds shady.”

“Excuse me?” Kitagawa replied, shifting from distantly formal to incredulous in half a second.

Futaba leaned forward. “If this is all for a wedding present, why can’t you just give them an envelope full of money like the rest of us? And isn’t it a little late to do a big art thing? How do I know you’re not just a stalker trying to get as much information as possible for some nefarious plan?”

“It’s true that I am running out of time,” Kitagawa admitted, “but I am used to such strict deadlines. I am confident in my ability to create something worthy of a gift before it is too late. As for your first point, a simple, traditional monetary gift is not enough. Ann and Makoto have significantly impacted my life, and I wish to convey my appreciation in the best way I am able. And I am clearly not a _stalker._ ”

“You keep talking about Ann and Makoto together. Did you get to know them after they started dating?” Akira asked.

Kitagawa tilted his head. “Actually, it was I who introduced them to each other.”

“What?” Akira and Futaba said at the same time.

“It began when I was involved in a civil lawsuit, and Makoto agreed to take my case–”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Futaba broke in. “Makoto was your _lawyer_?”

Kitagawa waved a hand dismissively. “A trivial matter involving someone from my past. Regardless, I was already acquainted with Ann, as she had previously modeled for some of my works. The two of them met each other while attending one of my gallery openings.”

“...Wow,” Akira said, appraising Kitagawa in a new light. “You really are the man that made all of this happen.”  
  
“And it will all be for naught if I do not prepare a piece in time!” Kitagawa said urgently.

“Uh, Ann and Makoto falling in love and getting married will all be for nothing if you don’t make them a wedding gift?” Ryuji said skeptically.

Kitagawa sighed. “Sakamoto, I greatly appreciate your help yesterday, but I do not expect you to understand the mentality of an artist.”

“Y’know, normally I’d be offended, but you’re probably right about that,” Ryuji said, resigned.

“That aside,” Kitagawa said, turning back to them, “if you happen to recall something, please make sure to tell me immediately. A memory of a cherished moment you spent with Ann, perhaps, or a story from your youth.”

“Well, if we think of anything, we’ll let you know,” Akira said, giving him a little salute and then immediately feeling stupid. He put his hand down hastily.

“I’ll think about it,” Futaba said, grinning when Kitagawa gave her an offended look.

"Everyone!” they heard a voice call. It was Okumura, waving from up ahead. “We’re going to be moving on soon, so if you could all could come back near the front... ”

Kitagawa nodded at them. “I thank you for your willingness to assist me. I will be on my way.” He turned and strode briskly towards the others.

“I like that guy,” Futaba said thoughtfully as they started to walk over to where Okumura was as well.

“What?” Akira said, eyebrows raised. “You were just mocking him.”

“I know, but I’ve never felt that comfortable mocking a total stranger before. This could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship.” Futaba put a finger to her chin. “I wonder why he was getting sued. Maybe he’s an axe murderer.”

“He did say civil lawsuit, Futaba.”

“Or maybe Makoto is just a good enough lawyer to get an axe murderer tried in a civil court!”

“Well, I’d say that’s not how the law works, but what do I know?”

Okumura, looking put-together and radiant despite her numerous responsibilities, smiled at everyone after they regrouped. “Thank you all for putting up with me, even though I’m not an actual tour guide. I hope everyone has been enjoying themselves anyway! Next we’ll be walking through to the Rialto Bridge and exploring the surrounding area.”

They organized themselves into a loose line with only a little fuss, and soon they were on their way, staying on a path close to the Grand Canal that cut through the city. The thing about Venice, Akira reflected as he looked out into the sleepy blue expanse, was that no matter where you were, you could almost always see the water. It lent the whole city a feeling of transience, less a mainstay and more a haven for wanderers– people who could never resist the pull of the tide.

Ahead of them, Makoto was leaning closer to Ann, laying a hand on her shoulder. “I really appreciate that you took care of choosing all the destinations for today. Everything has been going well so far. I’m sorry for being worried about entrusting it to you,” Akira heard her say, a smile in her voice.

Ann coughed. “Ummm, yeah. Um, about that…”

“...Ann.” Makoto removed her hand.

“I kinda ended up… leaving it up to Haru? Like, I was really gonna figure it out but then a bunch of stuff started happening and I kinda forgot and then there was that whole thing when we thought the florist was gonna flake and…”

Makoto folded her arms.

“Heh,” Ann said nervously.

Finally, Makoto just sighed and shook her head. “You know, you’re lucky I love you.”

Ann threw her arms around Makoto, who laughed in response and staggered a little. “Yayyy, thank you! I knew you’d understand! I love you too, babe!”

“I have an idea for the theme of Kitagawa’s painting,” Akira said to Ryuji as they carefully walked past them, avoiding being knocked over. “Discordant harmony.”

“Yeah, well, he’s workin’ with two totally different styles here, dude,” Ryuji said wearily, watching Makoto try to gently untangle herself from over his shoulder. “Like… impressionism versus Dada.”

Akira looked at him.

“What? I work in a school! I know things!”

Ann and Makoto caught up with them a minute later, still in good spirits. It wasn’t long before they’d fallen into the rhythm of conversation, effortlessly replicating their old dynamics, except this time Makoto was there– though she seemed to fit easily, like she’d always been in their group. Akira realized that he’d missed this, this feeling of being included and known and loved that could only be found with old friends.

It would all be great, Akira thought, if it wasn’t for the improperly-dressed elephant in the room. Or densely populated Italian city, rather.

“Wait, I have something there,” Akira muttered to himself.

“What?” Futaba said from next to him.

“Elephant in the room… uh, an elephant never forgets… something about how he won’t move on...” Akira’s eyes unfocused as he lost himself in thought.

“...And they used to call _me_ weird.”

Akira could see Goro just up ahead, talking amicably to Okumura about something. He had his stupid middle-aged dad sunglasses on and was laughing his stupid wealthy housewife laugh at something Okumura was saying. Akira scowled a little. Even as he willed his stare to bore holes into Goro’s head, he didn’t turn around.

Whether Goro was a few steps away or completely out of sight, he was still so far from Akira that he might as well have been on the other side of the world. They were both of them having to learn a strange, awkward dance with no denouement, skirting around each other and maintaining a careful breadth of space that felt foreign and unpleasantly unfamiliar, like if you suddenly started stumbling over the words of a language you’d always known. The best Akira could hope for from Goro was a practiced smile or civil disregard. He felt strange using Goro’s first name, the word always on the tip of his tongue, a habit he couldn’t take back– and Akira didn’t want to take it back, just like he didn’t want to erase all those hours they’d spent in each other’s company, all the time they’d spent learning each other. Even the thought of wishing for something like that felt offensively antithetical to Akira’s personal philosophy.

But for years he hadn’t thought of Goro, when he thought of him at all, as a flesh-and-blood person from his past as much as an _aspect_ of it– a single square stitched onto the quilt that was his life, a character from an old storybook that had no influence on the present. And now there he was, real and breathing and annoyingly attractive with his stupid hair curling delicately past his chin and his dumb idiot jawline and his dark, always-analytical eyes.

He wasn’t with Akira, now; he was wholly apart, he could have changed so much as to be someone else entirely. It felt wrong in a way that Akira didn’t like feeling, knew he didn’t have the right to feel. He wanted to know what Goro was doing, if he was satisfied with the way things had turned out, but Akira couldn’t ask– not if he wanted to preserve this fragile farce, this distance they’d manufactured between themselves.

Akira kicked a pebble on the path and stared moodily at Goro’s back, barely paying attention to the voices and movement around him. _Stupid… idiot... elephant with your stupid… elephant anatomy? God, my heart’s not in this._

Akira blamed sentimentality for why it was all so frustratingly painful. _This is the way it has to be. You were fine not speaking to him for all those years, and this is only a few days. When it’s over we can go back to our lives and that’ll be the end of it._ There was no way he was going to fall all over Goro just because he’d suddenly written himself into Akira’s story once again.

Absorbed in contemplation as he was, he only snapped back to reality when Okumura suddenly stopped the group and directed them to the side. When Akira looked up, he could see why. Ahead of them was a set of ancient-looking stone steps, which appeared to be attached to a grand, equally ancient-looking crossing over the water that was swarming with people.

“This is the Rialto Bridge, over the Grand Canal!” Okumura called, speaking more loudly to be heard over the general cacophony. Her features were more clearly visible in the shade provided by the bridge that they were all clustered under, high, earnest voice rising above the noise. “It’s one of the main crossings in Venice. There are a variety of shops on the bridge as well. If I’m not misremembering, the bridge itself is more than 400 years old.”

“It’s a work of art in itself, though the droves of tourists who pass over it each day probably don’t think much about its construction,” Goro spoke up, smiling indulgently as if to imply _idiot philistines_. “It’s an archetypal example of Renaissance architecture, correct?”

“Yes!” Okumura said, beaming. “It’s truly beautiful, isn’t it?”

“You know,” Akira said loudly, “speaking of the Renaissance, did you know it, uh, began in Italy?”

“Whoa, really?” Ann said. “Cool.”

“Your knowledge of... trivia... is just charming, Akira,” Goro said elegantly, saying _trivia_ like one might say _rotten meat_ or _jury duty._

“I know,” Akira said, narrowing his eyes into slits. “It does charm people. Many are charmed by me.”

“How nice.” Goro smiled, saccharine. “After all, when lacking the wits to make intelligent conversation, one naturally turns other methods.”

Akira gasped. “You–”

“Okay, everyone, let’s keep going!” Okumura called from the front, and Goro didn’t give Akira another glance before he turned back to her. Akira’s eye twitched a little.

“Ha ha,” Futaba said, chuckling. “He just called you stupid.”

“Whatever,” Akira muttered. “I’m going to get back at him.”

“How? Are you gonna take an ugly picture of him or something?”

“Tried that before,” Akira said sullenly. _He doesn’t have bad angles, the bastard._

They made their way onto the bridge, a wide, time-worn structure. People passed them on all sides, the locals clearly identifiable from their quick strides and focused destination-mindedness, while tourists lingered, craning their necks to see upwards or leaning close to the side and looking out into the canal. Akira stopped to enjoy the view, too, taking pictures of people gaping at the water and boats below them leisurely passing by.

The other side of the bridge was lined with a kind of mini-market, rows of shops set up to appeal to potential patrons. Akira ducked into one at random and looked around at the wares– mostly trinkets and souvenirs geared to tourists. One area had an organized table covered with colorful, meticulously beaded bracelets, one of which seemed to shine with carved turquoise accents. Idly thinking that one of his friends from the magazine would like it, or maybe Futaba, Akira reached out to pick it up–

–at the exact same time someone else also moved to take it. The person was partially hidden by the display, but when they moved, a face Akira knew all too well came into clear view.

 _Oh,_ Akira thought, staring at Goro’s surprised expression,  _how the Fates are cruel._

“Please, take it,” Goro said, breaking the silence. “I insist.”

“No, you, go ahead,” Akira replied sweetly.

“I have no need of it, honestly. I was simply browsing. You should take it.”

“It’s fine, really. I bet it’d be a great gift for your boyfriend or whatever,” Akira said casually. “Wouldn’t want to pass that up.”

“...I am currently not associated with anyone of the sort,” Goro said, after a pause, “so your argument falls flat.”

“Oh,” Akira said. He coughed.

“If that’s what you’re thinking, then it would be for the best if you took it. I’m sure one of your abundance of temporary partners would love a token of appreciation.”

“Okay, you–” Akira began, seeing red, but before he could launch into a rant about how Goro could take his demeaning condescension and shove it up a certain specific area of his body, the half-smile he detected on Goro’s face made him stop short.

He didn’t look so much malicious as he did… teasing? And come to think of it, Akira had heard a little humor in his voice. Was it possible that–

“Did you just make a joke?” asked Akira.

Goro blinked and looked surprised, suddenly, as if coming out of a momentary stupor. “Ah. I suppose I did.”

For a second, Akira wasn’t sure how to reply. He had forgotten that Goro possessed the capacity to be anything other than deliberately cruel. Then, without his really willing it, the corners of his mouth turned up in a grin. “...Asshole.”

Goro laughed a little, a surprising but not unpleasant noise, before looking elsewhere. He seemed almost embarrassed. There was silence between them for a few awkward seconds before Goro said “I’ll… go see where Makoto is.” Akira muttered something acquiescing, and Goro moved past him to get back to the entrance. In the close proximity of the shop, their shoulders brushed for just a second, and then Akira was alone again.

 _...That was weird. Extremely weird._ A few possible explanations for what the hell just happened ran through Akira’s head before he abruptly abandoned his post-mortem of the situation. _Nope. Not playing the whole overanalyzing everything game. Not letting him into my head._

Akira walked out of the shop and decided to seek out the others, carefully maneuvering past the swarms of people in his way. He soon found Futaba, Ryuji and Kitagawa loitering near another shop that was selling small glass-blown items. Kitagawa was holding up a knick-knack and examining it closely. As Akira came forward, he heard Ryuji say “But dude, that’s pretty much just a knock-off. You can find better stuff in less tourist-y places.”

“And yet it is beautiful,” Kitagawa said simply. He firmly turned to the shop’s proprietor and moved to make his purchase.

They spent a little more time exploring, and when everyone had had their fill the group came together at the other side of the bridge. The next hour or so was spent checking out more of the usual tourist destinations along the canal. They explored Doge’s Palace, and Ann made Akira take a picture of the group outside, shoving aside his complaint that he preferred candids (“I’m literally a _model,_ Akira, posed pictures are my _job_ ”). Makoto gave a supremely effective death glare to any passing man who ogled Ann. Kitagawa drew Akira, as an artistically-minded peer, into a discussion about composition and framing and seemed profoundly unsatisfied by his reply of “I just kinda go with my gut, I guess?”

As so often happens on trips to historic destinations, they eventually ended up at a museum, one of Okumura’s last planned stops. There was a general reordering of the group as people rummaged for their wallets and collected pamphlets. After he’d gotten out of the line to pay admission, Futaba and the others had already gone inside. Before he could join them, Akira noticed Okumura standing to the side and speaking quietly into her phone, a troubled frown on her face. After a minute, she ended the call and sighed, crossing her arms.

“Everything okay, Okumura?” Akira asked, coming closer.

“Oh– hello, Kurusu,” Okumura said, smile a little weary. “I’m just fine. I’m only trying to work out a small problem with my staff.” She leaned closer to Akira and dropped her voice. “I probably… shouldn’t be telling you this, but there was a bit of a mess in the kitchen we’ve been using last night. Things were going missing or moved from where they were, with no one able to explain... And no one should have been able to get access except a person on my staff. I have reason to believe one of them might have tried to steal.”

“To steal?” Akira repeated, blinking. “That seems pretty drastic. Do you think there’s another explanation? Like maybe it’s mice or something?”

“I would love to believe so, but I’m at my wit’s end… there doesn’t appear to be anything else that would explain everything. And if it was mice, the traps I set this morning would have already snapped their little necks,” Okumura said, gaze darkening a little.

“Oh,” Akira said.

She looked at him and quickly added “It’s only that I take pride in my work! And since Ann and Makoto are such good friends, I… would hate it if anything went wrong because of my incompetence. To say nothing of how awful it’d be to discover someone on my team was a thief…”

“Sorry, Okumura, but did you say _thief?_ ”

It was Goro. Of course it was Goro, coming towards them from behind Okumura with a frown on his face. Akira straightened up to face him. “Ah, Okumura was just telling me about… the last book she read.”

“Really,” Goro said skeptically.

“Yup. It’s about a group of vigilante thieves who… uh, bring justice to a blighted world.”

Okumura closed her eyes. “It’s all right, Kurusu. Akechi, I hope you’ll be discreet about this, but I was telling Kurusu about an incident that happened last night.” She explained the situation.

Goro’s mouth resembled a little displeased _c._  “You’re having problems so soon before the wedding?”

“Hey," Akira broke in. “It’s only one thing, and Okumura’s trying her best to fix it on top of everything else she has to do.”

Goro frowned again at him, then sighed. “I sympathize, but I do hope this is resolved quickly. Makoto would be devastated if there were any serious hindrances to the preparations.”

Okumura put a hand to her cheek, looking distraught. “I’ll try my best to get to the bottom of this…”

Sensing her helplessness, Akira spoke again. “Could I help somehow? Maybe just by taking a look around. Another pair of eyes might make a difference.”

“I’m willing to assist as well,” Goro said, to Akira’s surprise. “I would like to ensure that nothing goes wrong.”

Okumura smiled at them. “That would be wonderful. I’ll let you two know if there’s anything I need from you, but just checking up on the kitchen and the surrounding areas would be a big help. Thank you so much.”

“No problem at all,” Akira said benevolently, smiling back. He walked past Goro, who was looking contemplative, a hand at his chin, and entered further into the museum.

It wasn’t long before he saw Ryuji and Kitagawa, standing below a particularly dismal-looking painting.

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite artist and his trusty assistant,” Akira said, walking over to them.

“Good afternoon,” Kitagawa replied, at the same time Ryuji said “ _What_ did you call me?”

“Are you feeling inspired yet?” Akira asked Kitagawa. He looked at the painting again. It was large, covering almost all of the wall it was on, and swirling with dark, brooding colors and vicious shapes that came together to form what appeared to be an abstract hellscape. “Wow, this is… a lot.”

“It is rather bleak in tone,” Kitagawa agreed, “but its scope is related to what I am envisioning for my piece. I would like to create something on a similarly grand scale.”

“Dude,” Ryuji said. “You have, like, three days.”

“Pshaw,” Kitagawa dismissed him. **“** As I said earlier, I am no stranger to harsh deadlines. If I have enough inspiration, I enter a transcendental state and am able to work through the night, without even the aid of any sustenance.”

“Sustenance?” Akira said, raising his eyebrows. “Like, you don’t have to eat or drink?”

“Such trivialities are inconsequential. In the middle of one of my projects, I’ve gone days without food or drink.”

“Days?” Ryuji sputtered. “Dude, you need to drink water, at least!”

“Yes, that is true. Alas, I am unable to surpass petty human limitations,” Kitagawa said, sighing. There was no way to tell if he was being facetious or not.

“If you’re really feeling desperate, you could just rob this museum and pick a painting,” Akira suggested. “What better gift than a successful heist?”

Kitagawa looked displeased. “I have no need of doing so when I possess my own skill. Quite frankly, the notion that I would be forced to use another’s work offends me.”

“But not the thought that you’d commit grand theft, huh,” Ryuji muttered.

“‘Scope’ aside… what are you thinking for the actual content of the painting?” Akira cocked his head. “I’m assuming it’s not just a portrait of Ann and Makoto.”

“No. I have experience with portraiture, but my intention for this piece is different. I want to portray… love itself.”

“Wow,” said Ryuji, after a short silence.

“Uh, yeah,” Akira said. “How do you plan on doing that?”

“Any abstract concept can be portrayed accurately when one thinks of it in terms of its features and the emotions it evokes in people. For example, recently I have been dwelling on the serendipitous nature of love,” Kitagawa began.

“Serendipitous,” Akira repeated. “Right. So that means…”

“The best relationships can find their beginnings entirely by chance,” Kitagawa replied. “As an example, if I had not happened upon Ann’s work, or if Makoto had not agreed to represent me, or if one of them had not been able to attend the event during which they first met, neither of us would be standing here at this moment. It amazes me that from a mere set of circumstances, something life-affirming can bloom.”

“That’s true,” Akira said, turning to him, “but putting it that way is kind of simplifying it. Things can begin from chance meetings, sure, but not always. If you’re just waiting for things to happen to you instead of trying to make the most out of the opportunities you get, it’s easy to let important things pass you by. And even when it comes to relationships that seem like they happen just by chance, you have to keep trying your best to understand the other person instead of just ruminating in the magic of that first moment. Otherwise, you’re headed for a reality check, and fast.” Suddenly, he realized how much he’d just spoken and adjusted his glasses self-consciously.

Ryuji gawked at him, but Kitagawa looked pensive. “You’re saying, in essence, that relationships require sustained, almost calculated effort in order to succeed.”

“Well,” Akira admitted, “yeah.”

Kitagawa chuckled, seemingly amused. “To an idealist such as myself, such a notion is unpleasant, but I can’t deny the truth in your words.“ He returned to gazing at the painting. “In order to make something beautiful, one must be willing to give all they have. A blessing fomented from a combination of circumstance and inner resolve…”

He seemed lost in a private dialogue with himself, so Akira left him and Ryuji and decided to explore further. Maybe, he thought, idly running his thumb over his camera, he’d find some inspiration himself.

* * *

 The delicate game of flirting with Akechi was one of pushing forward and pulling back. Some of Akira’s lines Akechi would react to with his own turns of phrase– and that was always the best thing, seeing him respond with equal mettle, like he was rising to meet a challenge– but if Akira hinted too heavily or assumed too much Akechi would suddenly turn formal, not quite stiff, but clearly less at ease, and Akira would be left to lament the change.

It was almost exhausting, but it was thrilling. Talking to Akechi was never dull. He was eloquent when he spoke, calmly intelligent and rational, but Akira could sense it was a practiced kind of clarity– the kind Akechi had probably worked to assume. It was that kind of effort, somehow, that gave his words more weight. When Akechi spoke, you couldn’t help but want to listen.

And for some reason, Akechi liked listening to Akira, too, or at least Akira thought he did. Beyond the casual flirtation and the study sessions, Akira couldn’t tell what Akechi thought of him. He seemed like someone who played his cards close to his chest, revealing only what he deemed necessary, and only when he thought it would serve him well. Akira could respect that, but he couldn’t help but feel restless. It was too much to say he thought he deserved to know Akechi, but some part of him did feel a little… _entitled_. Thinking about it like that made him wince, but what other word was there for what he felt, when he’d started seeing every interaction between them as a chance to prove himself?

The only thing now was to find a way to get Akechi to himself for longer than their shared study breaks or chance encounters on the weekends. As it happened, Akechi was the one who made the first move.

“Sooo,” Akira said, chewing on his pen, “any weekend plans?” It was mostly to make conversation. They were seated in the campus library today, both mostly absorbed in their own quiet studying, though every once in a while Akira made sure to break the silence with a joke that'd garner at worst an amused eye-roll or at best a laugh from his study partner.

Before answering, Akechi’s gaze fell to the pen in Akira’s mouth. Akira hastily removed it. After he’d placed it on the table, Akechi replied “Actually, there’s something I’ve been invited to.”

“Ooh,” Akira said, leaning back. “Going to a party?”

That made Akechi laugh. “Well, something like that, but probably not the type you have in mind.”

Akira raised his eyebrows.

Akechi continued. “It’s a banquet held by the dean of the school I’m enrolled in. I was asked to attend because I am receiving an award.”

“Oh,” Akira said. “Wow, congrats.”

Akechi laughed again, which made Akira smile despite himself. “You don’t sound terribly interested.”

“Just not really my kind of thing, I guess,” Akira said, stretching.

“A shame,” Akechi said mildly. “I was going to ask you to come with me.”

Akira shot forward in his chair, making it wobble a little. “Wait, what?”

“You’re a… what exactly is your major, again?”

“Ah, Aesthetics and Science of Arts.”

“Lovely,” Akechi said, in a way that sounded like he had no idea what the hell that was. Akira himself wasn’t even fully sure, sometimes. “Well, at this event you’ll have the opportunity to make some connections in your field. It’s always sensible to seek out these kinds of relationships, especially before graduation.”

Akira wasn’t all the way convinced– but then Akechi leaned forward a little, like he was about to share a secret, and looked into Akira’s eyes. “Moreover…” He smiled at him. “I would love the company.”

And so that Saturday night, Akira found himself at Akechi’s overachiever party. The banquet was in an opulent room in one of the buildings on campus Akira had never set foot into. _I can’t believe my academic fees are paying for this._

The expression on Akechi’s face when he received his award made Akira take notice. It was a self-satisfied smile, the kind a king might have while assuming his rightful throne. Akira looked around at the others in the room, whose attentive faces and proud looks only served to confirm his hunch. Akechi, Akira thought, really was the golden boy of his class. He could see it afterwards, too, when the long ceremony had come to an end and he saw Akechi in conversation with a string of important-looking people. Each gesture, each relationship, seemed perfectly cultivated.

Akira made conversation with people at his table, but didn’t put in that much of an effort to go out of his way. He had never really been enthusiastic about networking. It felt much better to get to know people on his own terms, for reasons that couldn’t ultimately be boiled down to self-advancement. That was a difference between himself and Akechi, it seemed. Akira didn’t disapprove so much as he wondered why exactly Akechi felt the need to put so much emphasis on creating his personal web of connections. Once again, he felt it– the yearning to understand Akechi’s thinking, to know more about him.

Eventually he made his way out onto a balcony connected to the large room. Away from the rush of people, Akira rested his arms on the side, looking out over campus. Night had fallen, and things were quiet. For a moment, it stayed that way, until he heard the sound of footsteps and turned around.

“So this is where you went,” said Akechi. He stood near the door back into the banquet room. The moonlight intensified his features, adding a kind of intrigue to the set of his jaw and the fall of his hair.

“Yeah,” Akira said, rubbing the back of his head. “Sorry. Guess I’m not too good with a crowd like that.”

Akechi smiled. “If that’s your only vice, then I suppose I can’t blame you. The people in there can be… tiring.”

Akira laughed. “Well, it’s definitely not the only annoying thing about me.”

“To be fair,” Akechi said, crossing his arms and regarding him in the scrutinizing way Akira admittedly kind of liked, “I don’t know much about you, not really.”

It wasn’t a lie. For all he bemoaned Akechi’s enigmatic nature, Akira hadn’t revealed that much about himself to him, either. That could change, though. “What do you want to know?”

There was that careful look again. “Since you’re asking…” Akechi considered. “Tell me what brought you here.”

Akira smirked. “That’s a lot to ask for.”

“We have time,” said Akechi.

Akira shrugged. “If you’re talking about _here_ here…”  He grinned. “Well, just remember you asked. When I was in high school,” he began, “my parents kicked me out.”

He paused. Akechi regarded him intently and didn’t say anything, a nonverbal _go on,_ so he did.

“It’s not really a big deal anymore, or whatever. It sounds worse than it was, honestly. I used to be…” He laughed, a little awkwardly. “When I was a kid I was angry a lot. I had been getting into some trouble. So they got fed up with me and told me to get out, and if I wanted to make myself useful I should go work in the city. I was ready to give up on all of that shit, you know– high school, university, whatever. But in Tokyo I guess I found… another family, with someone I stayed with. And he taught me that if I got it together, I could maybe do something with my life that I’d actually enjoy.” He spread his hands and dropped them again. “So… finished high school, thought I might as well tackle uni. And now I’m here.” _Counting the days until graduation,_ he thought, but decided to keep that part to himself.

“I see,” said Akechi softly, looking fixedly at him. “Thank you for sharing that with me. It seems you’ve had your share of trials.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Akira said easily, rubbing the back of his head. “I had everything going for me; I got lucky. The only thing holding me back was just how much of a fuck-up I insisted on being.”

At that, suddenly, Akechi laughed– one of his real ones; Akira could tell by how he covered his mouth with his hand. Akira looked at him questioningly. He composed himself, then spoke, with a note of mirth still in his voice. “Forgive me. It’s just that that’s exactly what I was thinking, but I decided to refrain from saying so.”

For a second, Akira just looked at him in amazement. Then he laughed too, unable to help himself. “God. You asshole.”

Akechi grinned again. After a moment, he said “You seem to be very… comfortable with who you are. I’ll admit, I envy that.”

Akira shrugged. “The way I see it, you’re the only person who has your own back, at the end of the day. So I try to not have too many doubts about myself. It works, most of the time.”

Akechi shook his head, like he couldn’t wrap his head around such a concept. Akira wondered at that. He’d seen Akechi in his element, at ease among the academic elite, graciously accepting praise and accolades like he was born to the role. What did someone like Akechi have to be uncertain about?

It didn’t seem like Akechi was going to say anything else, so Akira waited a second before carefully saying, “So now you know about my vices. But I’m still coming up short on my list of yours.”

“I doubt we have enough time for _that_ ,” Akechi said, a hint of bitter irony in his voice. It was a lightning-fast response that seemed almost instinctive, and Akechi himself appeared surprised by his reply. He coughed a little and straightened himself. “I suppose an inclination to be nosy would be near the top of the list. I apologize for forcing you to speak.”

“Don’t apologize,” Akira protested. “I wanted to tell you that. You were right– we don’t really know all that much about each other. And I’d like–” He paused. “I’d like to know you better. Much better.” Another pause. _Might as well just lay all my cards on the table._ “I mean… I want to date you. That’s clear at this point, right?”

“...It’s clear,” Akechi said wryly, after a moment. He swept his bangs aside with his hand and looked away. “But… I don’t know if…” He trailed off. The few second’s silence that passed felt much longer.

“I’m serious,” Akira said quietly. “I like you. Give me a chance to know you, good, bad, whatever. I don’t run away easily.”

He could almost _see_ the wheels in Akechi’s head turning, his head tilted just so in deliberation, and despite how tense he felt he had to bite his lip to keep from smiling. _God, that’s cute._

Akechi turned to him and sighed a little before looking away. Even before he opened his mouth, Akira knew what was coming. He could the first pinpricks of disappointment already. “Kurusu…” There it was. “I don’t think that would be a good idea.”

“...Right.” Akira was unwilling to let it drop there, to stop talking. “But I could tell you were thinking about it just now. And if you were, that means you like me, too, even if it’s just a little bit. And since you don’t think it’s a good idea, there’s probably a reason why you’re saying no. And I won’t ask you to tell me the reason, but–”

“Kurusu,” Akechi said again, voice lowering a few degrees. “I simply don’t think it would be– prudent.”

“I–” Akira made himself stop, even though his heart and mind were firmly in protest. “...Okay. Sure. That’s… it’s cool.”

The silence that came after was almost unbearable, but for once Akira couldn’t bring himself to speak. Instead they stood there, worlds apart, until Akechi finally said “I suppose I should go back inside.”

“Right,” Akira mumbled. “Uh, I’m gonna take off, I think, if things are wrapping up anyway. Probably shouldn’t be out too late.” He bit his lip. “Thanks for inviting me.”

“Yes,” Akechi agreed, and shifted a little. “It was my pleasure.”

And then he was gone, and Akira was left by himself to wonder what went wrong.

* * *

 After some searching, Akira found Futaba in a less-populated part of one of the galleries. She was looking pensively at a painting. As Akira approached, she turned to him and gestured to it, saying  “Now this is the kind of art I like.”

The piece depicted a series of squares of alternating colors in a perfect diagonal line.

“It’s very… geometric,” said Akira.

“It has _structure_ ,“ Futaba said, sighing contentedly. “Life is about patterns, y’know. That goes for art, nature, math, you name it. When you break something down into its smallest parts, you can see that everything shares a common order.”

She took a few steps back from the painting and considered it again, arms crossed.

“Kinda makes me wonder how things would be if I fit more into a mold,” Futaba said, almost to herself. She clutched tighter at the straps of her backpack, seemingly unconsciously. “Would be easier. To be a part of a sequence.”

Akira looked at her, eyebrows furrowed. “What do you mea–”

“Well,” Futaba said loudly. “Let’s go meet up with everyone else. I think we’re about done here, right? Time’s a-wasting.”

“Futaba,” Akira tried again, but she had already turned on her heel, calling “Come on, Akira!” Akira frowned. Something about what she said had bothered him.

He shook his head as if to clear it and followed her through the halls. He’d have to see if he could get more out of her later. For now, there were pictures to take, things to see, and passive-aggressive exes to, hopefully, avoid.


	4. wrecking force

Having lost track of Futaba, Akira stepped outside of the museum alone to find the afternoon sun burning in the sky.

Shielding his eyes with his left hand, he took his phone from his pocket with his right and raised his eyebrows when he saw the clock on the digital display. More time had passed than he’d expected. He sat down on one of the giant stone steps that led up to the building.

“Is it already past noon?” came a voice from behind him, and he turned to see Makoto walking down the steps. Her arms were crossed, sundress fluttering in the wind as she smiled at him. “Maybe we should see about getting something to eat soon. If I’m hungry, the rest probably are as well.”

“I could eat, now that you mention it,” Akira confessed, smiling back.

“I do hope we’re not running all of you ragged today?” said Makoto. She came over and took a seat beside him.

“Not at all,” Akira said, turning to her. “It’s actually my first time here, so I’m enjoying myself.”

“Ah, right. You travel for work, don’t you?”

Akira nodded. “I do, yeah. Photography gig.”

“That sounds incredible. I wish I had the opportunity to travel more, but my job tends to keep me firmly planted in Tokyo. The last time I left Japan was…” Makoto contemplated. “Well, when Ann proposed, I suppose.”

“Oh, man,” Akira said, laughing. “I remember seeing the pictures online. That was awesome.”

Makoto smiled sheepishly. “It was… unexpected. I definitely didn’t think she would whisk me away to Paris simply to ask me to marry her.”

Akira grinned. “I was so proud.”

Makoto laughed. “Well, you know how Ann is.”

“Yeah. God, if only you knew here back in high school, though... She was even more of an airhead than she is now.” _Though if she heard me say that, she’d probably pot-kettle me so fast I’d see stars._

“Trust me, she’s still scatterbrained. Always doing things like forgetting her keys and running late to shoots.” Makoto sounded fond.

“Good thing she has you,” Akira said. “I’m surprised she’s managed this long, honestly.”

Makoto smiled. “Well, I’m sure you already know this, but there’s something about Ann– she has a way of making the universe bend to her will.”

“I know just what you mean.” It was more than just a positive attitude or cheerful disposition– Ann had a star quality that had been present for as long as Akira had known her, an attribute that had only intensified as she’d grown older, smarter and more beautiful. It was a kind of glittering compassion that pulled people in– a trait that had won over Futaba, Akira, Ryuji and now Makoto. “I’m lucky I know her.”

Makoto pushed a lock of air behind her ear, eyes lowered and a distant, affectionate smile on her face. “I as well.”

 _Oh,_ Akira thought, _to be young and in love._

“Oh, right. Akira, if you don’t mind talking about it…” She turned to him. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”

“Shoot,” said Akira, though he had a feeling he already knew what the question would concern.

Makoto leaned forward conspiratorially. “Since you knew Goro in college… I’m sorry, I just have to know. What was he like back then?”

Choosing to refrain from launching into a long-winded summary of all of Goro’s traits, Akira considered the abundance of all the adjectives he could possibly use and decided solely on “Prickly.”

Makoto snorted. “I suppose that’s one part of him that’s stayed the same... Even so, I’m glad I can count him among my friends. But I suppose I just can’t really imagine him in a serious relationship. He doesn’t trust very easily.”

Akira sighed and stretched. “Yeah, well… it was complicated. Not always in a bad way, though. Just… dating him kind of felt like playing a game of chess.” _And I probably should have realized sooner that I wasn’t prepared for that,_ added a voice from the part of his mind that was inclined towards introspection.

Makoto looked thoughtful. “I can imagine. Goro is…” She paused to find the words. “A good person who doesn’t like to make his intentions or feelings clear from the start.” She rolled her eyes. “He’d rather prefer to cover up things with strategy and smiles. It took a while before he let his guard down around me and I started to be able to understand how he thinks.”

“That sounds like the Goro I know.” He was surprised to find a tiny part of him felt strange. On his own, Goro had found other people who understood him, people he’d let into his world.

_I mean, good for him and everything… though I guess I wasn’t enough, since he was never really able to get to that stage with me._

“Of course, I do understand why he’s that way, considering everything,” Makoto said offhandedly. “And now that he’s straightforward with me, I can always rely on him to tell me what he really thinks. That’s why he’s one of the people I trust most.” She caught herself. “I’m so sorry, I’m rambling.”

“No, don’t worry, you’re fine,” Akira said, but his thoughts caught on her words. _What he really thinks? Considering everything?_

“Hey! Guys!” It was Ann’s voice from behind them. Akira and Makoto turned to see the group beginning to trickle out of the museum.

“Oh– I need to check in with Ann and Haru,” Makoto said, standing and beginning to walk over. “It was nice talking to you!” she called over her shoulder.

“Yeah, you too!” Akira called back. He mulled over what Makoto had said. Though it was hard to imagine Goro confiding in anyone, it seemed like she and Goro really were good friends.

Ann and Futaba were walking side-by-side, heads hunched over Futaba’s phone screen, with Okumura next to them. Makoto ran over and caught Ann’s shoulder before she and Futaba could fall over the stone steps. Akira snickered to himself.

“See,” Futaba was saying. “All the highest-rated restaurants around this area are pizza places.”

“Pizza, huh… I mean, I didn’t really think about it,” Ann replied.

“We’re in _Italy_ ,” Futaba said, like it was obvious. “If we’re not eating pizza, what the hell are we doing?”

“I don’t think pizza is a bad idea,” Okumura said, considering.

“Let me see. I have a list of dining options in my phone,” Makoto interjected, pulling out her own device.

Futaba beamed at her, then looked sternly at Ann. “You have so much to learn from her.”

“Aw, where’s you guys’ spirit of spontaneity?” Ann complained, suddenly throwing her arms around both of their shoulders and pulling so that they all almost stumbled again.

Akira looked around for Ryuji and spotted him just as he was coming out of the museum, Kitagawa in tow.

“What’d you guys think?” Akira asked, approaching them.

Kitagawa shrugged. “There were some compelling pieces, but the collection was somewhat lacking compared to other galleries I have visited.”

“But you liked that last painting so much you stood in front of it for half an hour,” Ryuji pointed out.

Kitagawa chuckled. “I suppose I became absorbed in that piece. I thank you for keeping me company.”

“Well, not like I had anything else to do,” Ryuji muttered.

“You did, didn’t you, Ryuji,” Akira mused. “And just out of the kindness of your heart, too. How generous.”

“Shut up,” Ryuji suggested.

“I didn’t say anything,” Akira said breezily.

“What?” Kitagawa said, looking perplexed. Akira raised his camera and took a picture of his face.

Slowly the group reassembled itself outside. Akira noticed Goro standing near the bottom of the steps. _He probably went around inside subtly implying that he could paint something better_. He was speaking with someone– a tall, severe-looking woman Akira thought he’d seen at dinner the night before. As Akira watched, Goro laughed at something she’d said, but she only shook her head in response, a slight smile on her face even as she rolled her eyes.

_Is that… Makoto’s sister, maybe?_

Before he could investigate further, Ann was waving them over, and it was time for lunch.

* * *

Akira’s photo roll during their meal consisted of a little gray cat hiding in the bushes outside the restaurant, Futaba attempting to fit a pizza slice almost as big as her head in her mouth, and everyone watching in silence as Makoto cut into her pizza with a fork and knife.

“That’s kind of fucked up,” Ryuji said.

“I don’t see how,” Makoto said, exasperated. “These slices are huge.”

“Still, though,” Futaba muttered. “Ruins the whole point of pizza. If this was my first impression of you, I wouldn’t have given you permission to marry Ann.”

“Oh, shit,” Ann said, looking concerned. She nudged Makoto. “We really dodged a bullet there, huh?”

Makoto opened her mouth, closed it, and sighed. “I guess we did, Ann.”

At the pizza joint Okumura and Makoto’s diligent Yelp searches had located, the core group of Akira’s friends was seated at one table, with other family members and friends dispersed throughout the restaurant. Ann never spent too long at one table, flitting between groups every few minutes to join conversations and check on people. The casualness of the whole affair was refreshing, Akira thought; they’d done a good job of making their guests feel at ease.

After enough napkins were crumbled and plates returned, Okumura spoke up. “We still have one activity left for the day. Makoto, did you want to fill everybody in?”

Makoto folded her hands on the table. “Yes, thanks. I actually took the liberty of planning something myself.”

“This is the surprise, right?” Ann said, grinning.

Makoto smiled at her. “It is.”

Ann beamed at all of them. “I’m so excited about this, guys. Makoto’s been planning this for a while and I don’t even know what it is! I told her I wanted to be surprised.”

“A heartwarming level of trust,” Kitagawa said solemnly.

“So, what is this mystery activity?” Akira asked, leaning forward with his elbows on the table.

“Well,” Makoto began with a smile, “I wanted to try something that would be fun for everyone. I was thinking about it for a while, and then it came to me– why not go with what I know best? So… I planned an introductory aikido lesson!”

There was silence from around the table.

Ann broke it by clapping furiously. “Awesome!”

“I thought about hiring an instructor, but…” Makoto shrugged. “I’m skilled enough to lead a group. Sae has some experience as well, so it seems unnecessary.”

“Sae?” Akira said.

“What the hell?” Futaba yelped. “I’m a tech geek! I don’t have any muscles! How am I gonna do this?”

“It’s unnecessary to have a lot of physical strength,” Makoto said, voice taking on a lecturing quality. “Aikido is about inner harmony, first and foremost.”

“God,” Ann said to Akira, looking at Makoto with adoration in her eyes. “Isn’t she cool? That’s going to be my wife.”

“Quite a challenge you’ve set up, Makoto.” The voice was Goro’s, and tinged with amusement. Akira turned to look at him.

“I don’t mean for it to be a _challenge,_ ” Makoto protested, resting her chin on her hand. “It’s only intended to be a way that everyone can connect with each other and have fun. And ideally learn some preliminary self-defense skills.”

“Jeez,” Futaba muttered.  

“Are you not much of an athlete?” Goro asked Futaba.

Futaba leaned back and subtly angled into herself, assuming the posture of an alarmed cat. Akira realized he hadn’t seen her and Goro actually talk to each other yet. “...Nope.”

Goro’s eyes turned to Akira. “What about this one, then?”

“Akira?” Futaba said, perking up. “Well, he’d probably tell you he has no problem with that stuff, but he’s as strong as me, basically.”

“Hmm,” Goro said thoughtfully. “I’d assumed as much.”

“Hey!” Akira sputtered. “I’m… reasonably strong!”

“Doubt,” Futaba said.

“I suppose we’ll find out,” Goro said, the damnable smirk back on his face.

“What about _you_?” Akira asked, a challenge in his voice. “Think you can handle it?”

“I do, actually,” Goro replied. “I’m no stranger to physical exertion. I find athletic activity to be a worthwhile way to spend what little free time I have.”

 _“I find athletic activity to be a worthwhile way to spend what little free time I have,”_ Akira mimicked to himself, keeping his voice down.

“Did you say something?”

“Nope.” Akira smiled winningly. “I’m looking forward to see what you can do, Goro.”

“And I await your performance as well, Akira,” Goro said, smiling politely, but there was an edge to it. Akira felt a certain anticipation surging within him.

Goro turned back to Makoto. “Should I call for transportation?”

“Yes, thanks– let me get the address for the space I rented,” Makoto replied, turning to rummage in her purse. Goro walked over to her side.

Akira turned back to his friends. “So, guys–”

They were all looking at him.

Ann picked up a butter knife from the table. “Y’know, whenever you and Akechi talk, it’s like I could cut the tension in the air with this.”

“Their final showdown begins soon,” Futaba said, smirking. “Only one will escape Makoto’s Italian Aikido Challenge with their life!”

Akira groaned. 

* * *

He’d managed to duck into a roll, so it didn’t really hurt when Ryuji pinned him onto the ground, but Akira collapsed on the floor anyway, spreading his limbs wide like a butterfly pinned to a corkboard. “I am slain,” he announced.

“Oh, get up,” Ryuji said, but he was laughing.

He didn’t know where the hell Makoto had managed to find a room to rent just for a few hours, but the space was big enough for a group of bumbling beginners to learn aikido. She’d even brought some one-size-fits-all _gi_ uniforms for everyone to wear while practicing, though only she wore the _hakama._ Makoto had only taught them some basic techniques at first, but now they were trying throws.

Makoto nodded at him. “Good, Ryuji. Akira, you know how to fall, but you’re not utilizing _ki_ effectively.”

“Er, can you explain again how to translate _ki_ into hitting people?” Akira asked.

Makoto crossed her arms. “This isn’t about _hitting people,_ Akira. _Ki_ is the force that gives life, that keeps things in eternal balance. When you’re up against your partner, both of you are two halves of a whole. Didn’t I already talk about how there’s much more to aikido than the physical aspect?”

“I believe Makoto already spoke at length about the philosophical principles of the art,” Kitagawa called from the bench.

“Thank you, Yusuke,” Makoto said appreciatively. “I’m glad somebody was listening.”

“Oh, sure,” Akira said warily. “Praise the guy who’s just sitting there.”

“My hands are the tools of my trade,” Kitagawa said, elegantly arching an eyebrow. “I sincerely hope you are not under the assumption that I would expose them to danger in so foolish a manner as involvement in the martial arts. I am still finding ways to enjoy myself, however.” He bent back down over his sketchbook.

“Yeah, and I’m providing moral support,” Futaba added from next to him. She wasn’t using her phone or laptop, but she’d pulled her backpack close to her, though Akira couldn’t see what was inside. “Go, Kitagawa! You draw those lines! Show that sheet of paper who’s boss!”

Kitagawa frowned. “It’s not a competition.”

“Ryuji has a powerful throw because of his strength, but with a little more practice you could perfect some evasive maneuvers to make up for your physical disadvantage, Akira,” Makoto said, looking thoughtful. “I can see potential in your form, sloppy as it is.”

“It’s so weird how you pretty much just insulted me multiple times, but I still feel obligated to say thanks,” Akira said, staring at the ceiling.

“And yet I don’t hear a word of appreciation.”

 _“Thanks,”_ Akira said reluctantly, but he grinned at her as he pulled himself to his feet.

“You don’t fall gracefully,” said a new voice.

On instinct, Akira turned around, but he quickly realized the reproach wasn’t directed at him. The person talking was the woman he’d seen earlier outside of the museum. Once again, she was speaking to Goro a few feet away.

“Is there really a graceful way to fall?” Goro replied to her dryly. In the starch white uniform, he looked out of place, like the loss of his dress shirt had taken some power with it.

The woman frowned at him. “Of course there is. It’s a basic principle. When you’re on the receiving end of a strong attack, you should be able to fall to protect yourself. That’s the art of _ukemi._ ” She nodded at Akira. “Take him, for example.”

“Me?” Akira said awkwardly as Goro’s sharp gaze zeroed in on him.

“Just now, with him–” Sae continued, angling her head over to Ryuji– “you were able to fall into a roll. Aikido requires that kind of split-second self-preservation. Your opponent is as much your partner as your adversary, and the goal is to defend yourself without doing harm. That’s why–” she turned her attention back to Goro– “aikido is an incredibly effective exercise in self-discipline.”

“You’ve known me long enough,” Goro said. He sounded almost… petulant? “I’m surprised you think I need more practice in that area.”

The woman’s lips quirked upwards in a smile. “There’s a difference between discipline and simple restraint. I had to learn that for myself, you know.”

“I suppose that’s why I’m the student and you’re the master,” Goro quipped, but he seemed a little put-out. He still had that subtle Goro-ish way of pouting that wasn’t explicit at first but became more evident the more you looked at him, all moody frowns and furrowed brows. Akira had to smile.

The woman turned in his direction again, and Akira immediately transformed his smirk into a neutral expression. She had an air that made it seem like she would tolerate no mischief. “By the way, I’m Sae Niijima. Makoto’s older sister.”

“Akira Kurusu. I’m Ann’s friend."

“Pleased to meet you, Kurusu.” She looked between him and Goro and tilted her head. “Why don’t you two go up opposite each other?”

“Oh, well, uh…” Akira said at the same time Goro interjected with “Excuse me?”

“Why not? You could use some practice with your falls, and Kurusu here could benefit from stepping into the other role.”

“You’re setting me up to lose?” Goro demanded. He cleared his throat. “I mean, is that really necessary?”

Sae looked amused. “It’s not about losing or winning. This isn’t the courtroom, you know.”

“Sometimes,” Goro said, sounding weary, “I really do get the feeling that you enjoy testing me a little too much.”

Sae chuckled. “Let me show you a better way to fall.” As Goro approached her, she looked at Akira. “Don’t go anywhere.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Akira replied promptly.

He stood and watched the others for a moment before Ann approached him, punching him lightly on the shoulder. “What’s up?”

“Apparently, I’m going against Goro now.”

Ann’s mouth fell open. _“Why?”_

“Sae Niijima has decided it should be so,” Akira said wryly.

“Oh, God, then I guess you have to.” Ann shivered. “Seriously, now I know why people are scared of their in-laws. Still, though...”

“What about you? I thought you were practicing with Ryuji.”

“No, he told me to quit after I accidentally hit him hard in the stomach,” Ann said, sighing.

Akira laughed. “How did you even do that? Besides the throws, the techniques we’ve been using aren’t even violent.”

Ann shrugged. “Dunno. It just happened. But listen, are you sure this a good idea, Akira?”

Akira looked over to where Goro was speaking with Sae. He followed the movement with his eyes as Goro tucked a lock of hair behind his ear. Repeating Sae’s words, he said “I mean, why not?”

Ann sighed. “I can’t believe this. Just don’t kill each other, okay?”

“I’ll try my best,” Akira said. He caught Sae’s eye, and she nodded at him. He turned his attention to Goro, who was walking onto the mat. He stood with arms folded, looking especially prickly.

“Good luck!” Ann whispered. Akira gave her a salute and strode over to where Sae was standing.

“GOOOO, Akira!” yelled Futaba from the bench. Akira blew her a kiss. She ducked to avoid it and shuddered.

“Try using the throw that Makoto demonstrated earlier, Kurusu,” Sae said, folding her arms. “The _juji nage_.”

“Right,” Akira said. He turned to face his partner.

Goro’s form was impeccable, straight-postured but with a grace to it. He was looking straight at Akira, eyes wary and a slight curl to his lip, as if Akira was an obstacle he hadn’t anticipated, an obstruction in his path.

Akira rolled his shoulders back and forth and took a breath. Then he stepped forward and waited.

Goro came at him fast, taking Akira’s arm with both hands. It did not escape Akira that this was the first time they’d touched each other since meeting again. Goro’s double-handed grip was unrelenting, and it felt like a condemnation. They looked each other in the eyes. He was so close that Akira could clearly see the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed.

Remembering what Makoto had done, Akira spun around and took Goro with him, Goro’s hands still tight around his arm. Their shoulders crushed together for just a second before Akira pushed Goro further back, both of them turned around, holding his arm up high so Goro’s hands were forced upwards.

“Good, Akira,” said Makoto’s voice. Akira nodded his thanks but didn’t look away from Goro.

“Couldn’t I just let go?” Goro said. He, too, kept his eyes fixed on Akira.

“Not the point,” Makoto replied. “If you two were trained enough, this would be happening so fast you wouldn’t have time.”

Akira smoothly dislodged one of Goro’s hands, feeling a rush of pride when he saw the brief, startled look on Goro’s face. At once he moved to cross Goro’s arms, so now Goro was forced to hug them in an _X_ to his chest.

Holding Goro there, it was easy for Akira to see that his persona had changed. A stubborn pride was evident in the way he held himself, arrogant even though he’d been forced on the defensive, and defiance was manifested in the way his chin was raised, narrowed eyes issuing a challenge to Akira.

There was still no part of Goro that was ever willing to concede defeat, even if a loss was choreographed.

Akira stepped forward with his left foot, hands still holding Goro’s arms in place, and pushed.

But Goro held fast, even against the monumental pressure Akira was applying to his arms. His body curving in on itself, he struggled to maintain his stance.

_Of course he’s not going to make this easy. But..._

“Goro,” Akira said, quietly, so no one watching would be able to hear.

“What?” Goro almost snapped, still straining to keep his balance.

“You can fall,” Akira said.

Goro’s eyes widened. For a few seconds, he hesitated. Akira didn’t let go of his arms, watching an internal war play out briefly on his face.

Then Goro gave an abrupt nod.

Taking it as an invitation, Akira applied pressure yet again, and this time Goro allowed himself to be pushed. It happened quickly– one second Akira was moving, and the next Goro was on the ground, smoothly rolling so that his back was only on the ground for a second before he sat up.

“Very good, Goro,” Sae called. “That’s a major improvement.”

“WHOOO!” Futaba yelled.

Turning to Akira, Goro looked at him wearily. Akira extended his hand, and slowly Goro took it.

“Thanks,” Akira said, grinning as he pulled Goro to his feet.

“For what?” Goro said, a little surprised.

Akira shrugged. “I just didn’t think you would let me do that. So thanks.”

“Hm,” Goro murmured. “I didn’t think I would, either.” 

* * *

Eventually the lesson ended, though at first Makoto seemed like she could happily continue for the rest of the night. After Ann had dipped her on the mat and kissed her in front of everyone, though, her face had been red enough so that she could barely look anyone in the eye, even to mumble that their time had run out on the rental.

To get back to the hotel, it was time to take the water bus again. Akira was a little surprised to find the day was already drawing to a close. The sun hadn’t yet begun to set, but the suggestion of dusk was growing stronger. It lent a quiet feeling to the process of climbing aboard, the boat-bus docked patiently at the stop as their group made their way on board.

“God, I’m exhausted, man,” Ryuji groaned, leaning wearily back in his seat after they’d all found their places and the boat had started to move. “And still sore.”

“Ann got you good, huh?” Akira said, grinning.

Ryuji shook her head. “She doesn’t know her own strength. Those two are dangerous. Imagine if someone tried to rob them or something. Ann would put the guy in a headlock while Makoto hit him with a bunch of aikido moves.”

Futaba snorted. “Instant KO.”

They made aimless conversation for a while before the group eventually fell into the tranquil, contemplative silence that happens at the end of a long day.

Akira looked through his photos from the day and smiled at some of the shots he’d taken at the aikido lesson. Good thing he’d captured that kiss at the perfect moment. He made a mental note to get it framed later.

Growing restless, Akira looked around the passengers. There weren’t that many people on board who weren’t members of the wedding party. He looked over his shoulder to see if anyone was standing out on the small deck.

Through the opening he could see Goro, leaning up against the railing and watching the water. Before he could really think about what he was doing, Akira stood up.

Futaba looked up from her phone at him quizzically, but he muttered “Just gonna go out for a bit,” and she nodded. He quietly slipped through the opening and stepped towards Goro.

“Hey,” he said, to get his attention.

Goro looked back at him. “Ah. Hello.”

Leaving a foot of space between the two of them, Akira pressed his back against the railing so they were both facing opposite directions. After a moment’s silence, he said “So you and Makoto’s sister are close, too, huh?”

Goro’s eyes, a little dreamy and faraway, were still fixed on the water. “I suppose so. She’s an accomplished prosecutor, so she tutored the two of us when we were set to take the bar.”

“Aren’t the two of you defense lawyers, though?”

Goro gave a little laugh. “That may be so, but regardless, Sae’s knowledge of the law is immense. Her assistance continues to be invaluable to us at times.”

“Oh.”

Lacking anything else to say, Akira lapsed into silence again. The space of quiet between them wasn’t exactly awkward, but it felt… expectant, as if the right words were waiting to be pulled out of the air and spoken.

“Hey, Goro,” Akira tried.

Now Goro turned to him. “What is it?”

Akira hesitated, but decided to just say it. “We should try to… be cool.”

“Be cool,” Goro repeated dryly.

“Yes,” Akira said, suddenly self-conscious. He felt suddenly like he was in college again, trying to impress his pretty, complicated upperclassman. “Just… I mean, we can be friendly, during all of this, can’t we?”

Goro didn’t reply for a moment, and when he did speak Akira wasn’t sure what to make of his reply. “This sounds dramatic, but I never anticipated I’d see you again. I simply don’t know how to act around you, I suppose.”

That gave Akira pause– the revelation that Goro didn’t know what he was doing either, that he was just as uncertain.

“You can just act how you used to act,” Akira said, and from the way Goro seemed to flinch, he knew it was the wrong thing to say.

“The past is the past, Akira,” Goro said, the pleasantness of his voice taking on an edge. “There’s no point in trying to repeat the patterns from back then. Think about it this way–” and now the conciliatory tone was back, though it made him sound even more artificial–  “there’s no reason why we can’t start fresh.”

“By starting fresh, you mean go back to being strangers,” Akira said quietly.

“...You’re being unreasonable,” Goro said.

He sounded dismissive, almost curt, and it was that that suddenly made Akira angry. “I don’t think it’s unreasonable for me to be upset,” Akira said, clenching his jaw, “when you’re not being honest with me.”

Goro’s eyes lowered, and for a second Akira thought that it almost looked like he was in pain. But the expression was gone as quickly as it came, and when he spoke his voice was unreadable. “I would prefer not to argue with you, Akira.”

“Fine,” Akira said, voice filled with more venom than he’d intended, and looked sharply away, focusing on the lull of the waves.

Now the silence between them was fraught with tension. Stubbornly, Akira didn’t want to go back to where the others were, even if he was too angry to actually talk to Goro right now. Some petty part of him thought leaving would be like conceding defeat, so there he stayed, next to Goro on the deck.

It was the way that Goro was pretending that was getting to him. Avoidance, just so he wouldn’t have to think about the reality of how things were. It didn’t make sense to Akira; it had never made sense. Why not face those ugly, messy feelings inside of you, why not confront them with all the conviction you had? Why push them away and lock them inside of yourself to fester and rot, when all it took to understand yourself was a little courage?

He hadn’t thought like this in a while. Knowing Goro had been like constructing a map of a minefield, an exercise in trial and error, and now here he was again, all these years later, trying not to get his feet blown off.

 _Fuck_ , Akira thought, closing his eyes.

He shouldn’t have expected it to be easy. After all, things were never simple when Goro was involved. And there was no way he was getting out of this unscathed, because he hadn’t just dated Goro in college; he’d been at least a little bit in love with him.   

* * *

A week and a half after Akechi had firmly rejected him, Akira was beginning to realize he was very much not over it. The middle of his history of film photography class was probably not the best place to be mulling this over, but it seemed helpless, Akira reflected gloomily as he stared at the professor, practicing the art of looking focused while hiding that his mind was a million miles away.

He hadn’t really spent any time with Akechi since that day. A few words after class and some polite smiles were all that they had exchanged. Suddenly his daily routine had an Akechi-sized gap right in the middle, and Akira hadn’t anticipated how it would feel so…

 _Wrong._ It was all wrong. He missed seeing Akechi sitting across from him, lost in thought as he consulted a problem. He wanted to be able to flirt with impunity again in hopes of seeing the small, fond smile on Akechi’s face.

And he wanted more than that, too, more than what he’d had before. Fantasy, Akira knew, was juvenile, completely pointless, but he couldn’t stop imagining how it would feel to run his fingers through Akechi’s hair, to see him without his guard up, to hear him tell Akira things nobody else knew in his lovely, even voice.

 _I’m better than this,_ Akira thought, sinking in his seat, and for a moment entertained the notion of returning to Yongen-Jaya for a weekend, just to visit and clear his head. He’d pet Morgana by the door of Leblanc and mindlessly help out behind the counter, cracking jokes with Futaba and cheerfully bothering Sojiro…

The rumbling sound of people standing up and gathering their things brought him out of his reverie and signified that class has ended. Akira quickly joined the crowd of people trickling out of the room, still wrapped up in thoughts of home.

Outside, Akira considered what to do for the rest of the day. He’d been meaning to head to the library and finish up a paper he was working on, but… Akira checked the time on his phone. 2 in the afternoon, and it was Wednesday. If he remembered correctly, that meant that right now Akechi would be working at the circulation desk, as part of his on-campus job.

It didn’t matter. Akira refused to avoid the place just because Akechi would be there. _God, this isn’t high school. I’m not going to run from things like a kid_. He ran a hand through his hair and stubbornly increased his pace as he began the trek across campus.

Once he’d reached the library, he gave the place a cursory glance from the entrance before heading inside. He didn’t see Akechi at first, but soon his familiar figure became visible from behind the front desk.

Their eyes met. Without any other real option, Akira walked up to him.

“Kurusu,” said Akechi. “Hello.” He wore his practiced smile, making his feelings indecipherable.

“Hey,” said Akira. “Haven’t really seen you around lately.” It was more that they just hadn’t been making plans, but it was something to say.

“My apologies for that. I’ve been a little busy. Hopefully your grades haven’t suffered.” The smile turned teasing, and at once Akira felt much more comfortable.

He cracked a grin. “I’m staying afloat. Things always seem to make more sense when you explain them, though.”

Akechi laughed quietly. “That’s kind of you to say.”

Akira shrugged. “It’s the truth.”

For a moment, they were silent. Akechi’s eyes were cast downwards. Akira looked at him and tried to decide what to say next.

It was not without a lot of wake-up calls, agonizing introspection, and grief that Akira had finally realized that it was pointless to let people go when you wanted them to stay.

He wasn’t about to let all he’d learned be for nothing.

“Hey,” Akira said. “Can we talk?”

Akechi didn’t immediately reply. His expression, still neutral, continued to reveal nothing.

“Just if you have time,” Akira said, keeping his voice firm.

For a second Akechi seemed to hesitate. Then he looked back at the circulation desk. “My shift ends in about half an hour. I’m– sorry to make you wait, but...”

“It’s no problem,” Akira replied, feeling his heart begin to beat a little faster. He gestured vaguely to his bag. “I was here to study anyway. I’ll just…” He pointed with his thumb at a nearby table and gave a half-wave in goodbye. Akechi nodded and looked away quickly.

Akira wrote approximately half a sentence of his paper in the thirty minutes that followed. It felt like forever before he finally heard Akechi’s footsteps and looked up.

“Hey,” Akira said.

Akechi smiled a little. “...Hey.” Somehow the casual way he said the word, in a way markedly different from his usual dignified tone, was devastatingly endearing, and Akira put a casual hand to his mouth to hide his grin. “If you’d like to talk, it shouldn’t be here. How about–”

Akira joined him as he looked around, and they both saw a door leading to the stairwell at the same time. Akechi inclined his head wordlessly, and Akira got up and followed him through the door, leaving his things on the table.

Akechi stood near the stairs and folded his arms. It was a casual gesture, but it had the consequence of making him seem even more guarded. “What did you want to talk about?”

“I just…” Akira leaned against the wall and took a breath. He realized that it was important to think before he spoke. With Akechi, there was never a lot of room for error.

“Okay, listen,” Akira said after a moment. “I don’t want anything I said before to ruin things between us. I can understand if you’re not interested, and I don’t want us to just stop hanging out. I won’t lie to you about how I feel, but I can back off if it means we can keep being friends.”

“Is that really possible for you?” Akechi replied abruptly.

Akira blinked. “Huh?”

“Say I told you that though I felt the same way as you did, hypothetically, I would prefer not to be in a relationship, for reasons I chose not to disclose. Would you be willing to return to our friendship with no second thoughts?”

Akira opened his mouth and closed it again. He thought it over. He thought about all the ways he could lie. Then he said, slowly, “Probably not.”

Akechi sighed.

“Sorry,” Akira said, laughing weakly. “I guess I like you a little too much.”

Akechi started a little at that, eyes widening subtly. Then he turned his face away. “You’re making this– very difficult for me.”

“It doesn’t have to be,” Akira said. He swallowed. “Difficult, I mean. It depends on… what you want. How you feel.”

There was a pause that felt like an eternity.

“It’s not easy for me to disregard my inhibitions,” Akechi began at last. “Of which there are many. I’m not referring to doubts about you, in particular, I mean– most things–” He was clearly flustered, tense in a way Akira had never seen him before. More than anything Akira wanted to say something that would soften those edges, to find the magic words that would let Akechi know he didn’t have to be so restless, but he held himself back.

Akechi wore a bitter smile on his face. “Do you know why I invited you to that banquet?”

“Oh.” Akira straightened. “...Is there a reason I’m not aware of?”

“Something like that. You see, I never really thought you would enjoy it.”

Akira raised his eyebrows.

“In fact, I’d assumed the opposite. Events like those are banal at best, after all, especially for someone like you– by that, I mean a person not easily impressed by pomp and ceremony.”

“So why did you ask me to go?”

“I suppose…” Akechi closed his eyes for a second and then opened them once more. “I wanted to see how you would react in a place like that, so far out of your element.”

“Oh,” Akira said, leaning so far back his head touched the wall. “So you set up a test, and somehow I failed. Is that it?”

“A test?” Akechi smiled slightly. “That’s a rather cut-and-dry way to put it, but I suppose it’s not an entirely inaccurate label. Whatever you want to call it, however… no. I wouldn’t say you failed.”

Akira blinked. Then he said, slowly, “Sorry, but I’m having trouble understanding exactly what you’re trying to tell me.”

“I apologize. I’m talking in circles. Let me put it this way. Kurusu, I assumed that… the interest you had in me was misguided. I thought that you were simply seeing whatever it was that you wanted to see in me, and it would be a boon to both of us if we could put it to rest. I've never seen the value in pursuing any kind of relationship that stems from a fundamental misunderstanding of its nature.”

Akechi looked away from him. “And yet you reacted contrary to my expectations. You weren’t put off at all. You even opened up to me, after I selfishly asked you to do so. And despite it all, I can’t–”

Akechi paused suddenly. “It’s so strange,” he said, voice as uncertain as Akira had ever heard him sound. “I’m so… curious about you. You have a way of keeping my attention, even when you’re not even present. I find myself wondering what you’re doing, even as I try to keep my mind occupied with other things. I keep asking myself why you’re so interested in me when I’m only…”

He trailed off, uncharacteristically. Akira waited until he was sure he wasn’t going to say anything else before he said, gently, “Akechi. You talk like you don’t see any reason to get close to anyone unless it benefits you somehow–”

Akechi snorted. “Blunt, aren’t you?”

“So I’ve been told. But that’s not my point. My point is that you kept hanging out with me.”

Akechi tried to reply, but Akira kept going. “You didn’t have to spend all that time going over notes, or shooting the sh– just talking to me, I mean, or getting coffee or lunch. But you did. And that wasn’t for the purpose of any kind of… litmus test-type thing, right?”

“No,” Akechi said quietly. “It was not.”

“So can I assume it was just because you don’t actually hate my company?”

Akechi bit his lip. “I enjoyed that time with you, yes.”

“And I enjoy my time with you, too. I know we’re different, and I guess that’s a big deal to you even if I don’t really understand it, but I don’t think it should mean that we should just… stop…” Lacking a way to summarize their relationship, Akira just gestured vaguely to the space between the two of them and finished with “...this.”

“Kurusu,” Akechi said, and Akira was surprised by the tone of his voice; he sounded almost pleading. **“** I’m someone who can’t help but think in terms of cause and effect, who can’t act unless I see all the possible paths laid out clearly before me. You’re clearly not like that. Does that not bother you?”

“I’ve never really met anyone who thinks like you do,” Akira admitted. “But does it really matter? Like I said, it doesn’t have to be difficult. I like you, and, uh…” He rubbed the back of his head. “You… like me? Right? Maybe?”

“I... do,” Akechi said. The space between the two words felt like a year, and Akira let out a breath. Akechi laughed, but it sounded more nervous than anything. “I do like you, Kurusu, but…”

Akira pushed off from the wall and took a step closer, almost unable to bear the distance between them, fighting his longing to close it.

“Then I guess we need to decide if we’re willing to give this a chance,” Akira said.

Akechi took a short breath.

“Just… a chance,” Akira said, more quietly. “That’s all it has to be. Only if you want.”

Akechi was looking at him, eyebrows scrunched together.  “I don’t understand you at all,” he said, almost to himself, and then laughed a little. “Most people would have given up by this point, you know.” He was still tense; Akira could tell from the hard line of his shoulders to the way he was biting his lip.

“I’m persistent,” Akira said, smiling, but he let it fade before continuing. “I’ll stop if you want me to, though.” But even saying the words felt like betraying himself.

“I don’t,” Akechi said. His voice turned decisive. “I don’t want you to.”

“Well… good,” Akira said, “because neither do I.”

They both laughed a little, something to fill the space between them before it gave way to quiet again.

Akechi’s hand was resting on the banister, close enough for Akira to touch. With caution, Akira reached out until their hands were next to each other, barely a hair’s width apart.

Akechi looked at Akira’s hand. Then, he moved his own closer, so that their thumbs were touching.

Before he could think twice about it, Akira put his hand over Akechi’s, gently, slowly. It felt childlike in its action but solemn in all the things it implied, like a playground pact.

“All right,” Akechi said, his quiet voice sounding loud to Akira’s ears.

“All right?” Akira repeated, hopeful.

“You’ve… convinced me. About that chance,” Akechi said. “I think I’m…” When he paused his expression was something Akira felt lucky to behold, cautious and beautiful like a flower slowly opening to bloom. “I think I’m willing to take it. That is, if you are as well.”

“I am,” Akira said. “Willing.” Akechi’s hand felt warm and solid beneath his.

Their fingers entwined, somehow, and lightly, Akira squeezed. After a second, Akechi squeezed back.

“Well, then…” Akechi smiled back, a real one that showed in his eyes. “I'm glad.”

For the whole rest of the day, Akira couldn’t keep from smiling, too. 

* * *

By the time they got back to the hotel, dusk had fallen. Akira was having trouble keeping his eyes open, but he still accepted Ryuji’s invitation for dinner at the restaurant in the lobby. Futaba had elected to head to her room, probably to take one of her illogically-timed naps. When he and Ryuji finished with their food, the two of them slowly got up from the table, feeling exhausted.

“Hey, man,” Ryuji addressed him, yawning as he did so. “Did I leave my water bottle in your room earlier?”

“Oh… maybe,” Akira replied, trying to visualize all the things he’d seen on the table in his head. “We can go check.”

“Awesome, thanks.”

When they reached Akira’s floor and Akira pressed his keycard to the lock, he expected to find an empty room. What he saw instead was Ann and Futaba, sitting cross-legged on the floor. The lights and the TV were on, and Ann appeared to be in the process of painting Futaba’s nails bright green.

Futaba gave a wave with her polish-free hand. “Yo.”

“Uh, hey,” Akira said, eyebrows raised as he took in the scene. “So what’s happening?”

“What does it look like?” Ann said, grinning. She pointed a nail-polish brush in Akira’s direction. “We’re gonna have a sleepover.” 

* * *

“I want to paint yours, too,” Akira complained as Ann swiped the brush over the nail on his index finger. From her eclectic selection of polish, he’d chosen a deep red color. “Let me get the chance to explore my art through a different medium.”

“Akira, I’ve had every aspect of my makeup for the ceremony planned for months. I’m not letting it be changed in any way. Ryuji, could you turn up the volume? I can’t hear shit.”

“Yeah, and let me paint your nails, too, Ryuji.”

“No, and yeah, Ann, give me a second.” Ryuji pressed a button on the remote. “Oh, and by the way, have fun paying for the movie, Akira.”

“Goddamnit.”

“Did he actually have to pay?” Futaba said mysteriously. “Or did I use my talents to avoid the fee?”

“Aw, are you– Futaba, did you hack the TV?!”

“Chill out, I was just joking. Want me to try, though?”

“Nooo,” Ann complained, still focused intently on the movie. “They’re about to go into the forest, we’ll miss it.”

"You know, this is your wedding, Ann. Why the hell are you even messing around with us?"

"I have the rest of my whole entire life with Makoto, Futaba! I can spare one night for my best friends in the whole world. Now be quiet so I can hear the TV."

“Hmmm,” Akira said teasingly, scrolling through the Wikipedia page open on his phone. “According to this, the protagonist finds himself–”

“NO SPOILERS!” Ryuji, Futaba and Ann yelled simultaneously.

“You always do this!” Ann accused. “Just like high school.”

“Oh, come on,” Akira said, shrugging. “Movies take too long. Plus, I would always keep it to myself until Ryuji eventually begged me to tell him and then proceeded to yell it out to everybody.”

“Excuses, excuses,” Ann said, raising the brush threateningly. “Don’t think I won’t confiscate your phone.”

“He’s right about Ryuji yelling, though,” Futaba commented.

“Aw, shut up.” Ryuji leaned back in the mountain of pillows he’d built up around himself. “Let’s just try to watch this, all right?”

Eight minutes later, Ryuji ended up cajoling Akira into revealing the plot in a whisper, promptly yelled “What? The main guy gets killed?”, which led to a chorus of sighs, an outraged yell from Ann, the movie being switched off, and a bitter pillow fight that was probably long and involved enough to qualify as a war of attrition.

When everyone was left panting and lying in the debris and Futaba had come out from under the bed, they took a moment to reflect on the destruction.

“God,” Ryuji groaned, flopping back the sheets. “That’s not as easy as it used to be.”

“Seriously,” Akira said, closing his eyes. “I feel like I cracked my back or something. Are we getting old?”

“Getting old?” Ann cut in. “I’m getting _married_.”

After a moment of silence, Futaba slowly said “Y’know, I don’t think I processed that until just this moment.”

“Holy shit,” Ryuji said quietly. “You’re getting married.”

Ann laughed, but her voice caught in the middle of it. “Some friends you guys are for not realizing.”

The room fell into a charged silence. Ann pulled her knees up and tucked them under her chin, her blonde hair falling around her shoulders. She looked just like she could be sitting on the floor of Akira’s attic bedroom, all those years ago.

Akira looked around the room at the people he’d known for so much time and felt something ache in his chest.

“Aw, man.” Ryuji’s voice broke the silence. “Ann’s crying.” Despite the words, he sounded fond.

“Am not!” Ann blubbered, wiping at the mascara now running down her face. “I’m just–” She sniffed. “It’s been so long since we’ve all been in one room together, and now… everything’s going to change. In a good way, but this– this is just the beginning. It’s all going to be different from now on.”

There was quiet again as her words sunk in.

A flash of inspiration suddenly came to Akira, an idea he knew he had to act on immediately. “Hang on,” he said. He pulled out his phone and quickly tapped at a few buttons on the screen.

There was a pregnant pause, and then Futaba’s phone dinged. So did Ryuji’s, and finally Ann’s.

“Akira, what…” Futaba mumbled, turning on her phone, and stopped short when she saw the notification on her lock-screen. Ann and Ryuji did the same. After a few more seconds, recognition dawned on each of them.

“A group chat,” Ann said, a small smile on her face. “Just like the one we had in high school…”

“God, I’d almost forgotten about that,” Ryuji said quietly.

“We all kind of stopped using it after a while,” Futaba murmured.

“I know we’re all busy, so I’m not saying we have to use it every day or anything. It’s just that I know I haven’t been great about keeping in touch, so… I want to change that. I mean, it’s not like you guys are just my friends.” Akira smiled sheepishly. “You’re my family. I don’t want to ever feel like I’m ignoring what’s most important to me.”

“Hey, who said you could go getting all sappy, man?” Ryuj interjected, but he sounded choked up.

“Ugh,” said Futaba, but before she quickly turned her face away Akira could see that her eyes were suspiciously shiny, too.

Ann wiped at her face again, smiling a watery smile. “I really love you guys.”

“I love you too… nerd,” Futaba said. She caught Ann’s pleading look and sighed. “God, fine. You can hug me. ONE ti– Ack!” Before she’d even finished her sentence Ann had thrown her arms around her.

“Okay, okay,” Ann said a few minutes later, after Futaba had wiggled out of her grasp. “Enough of this. Let’s talk about stuff that won’t make me cry.”

“Like what?” Ryuji intoned.

Ann shrugged. “Anyone have any gossip?”

“I heard this real ditz is getting married in two days,” Ryuji said. Ann attempted to throw a pillow at him, but it hit Akira square in the face instead.

“Critical failure,” Futaba noted.

“Dude! You knocked my glasses off,” Akira said petulantly, putting them back on.

Ann winced. “Sorry. Casualty of war.”

“Ha,” Ryuji said smugly. He paused for a second before adding, “If you want gossip, though, there’s always Akira and Akechi.”

Akira groaned.

“Oh, yeah!” Ann leaned forward. “How’s that going for you?”

He sighed. “Mostly I think I’m making progress with him and then he goes back to being aggressively distant and vaguely hurtful.”

Ann sighed, too. “I’m sorry, Akira. I guess some things can’t really be helped.”

“Making progress?” Futaba asked suddenly. She was still spread out on the floor and tap-tapping away at her phone, probably playing another one of those rhythm games,  eyes fixed to the screen.

Akira turned to her. “Huh?”

“What do you mean by that?” _Tap-tap-tap_. “Are you just trying to clear the air with him? Because it doesn’t sound that way. What exactly do you want from Akechi, Akira?”

Akira opened his mouth. He closed it. He opened it again.

“That’s… a good question, actually,” Ann said.

Akira sighed again. “I’m not really sure what I want.”

“Well, you should probably figure that out,” Futaba said neutrally. She made her final _tap_ with a flourish and grinned triumphantly at the screen. “Level cleared.”

“I wouldn’t blame you if you decided to go for it again, Akira,” Ann said cheerfully. “I mean, he’s _hot_.”

“But he’s an ass,” Ryuji said.

Ann shrugged. “So he’s Akira’s type.”

“True,” Ryuji concurred.

“First of all, shut up, and second of all it doesn’t matter because I’m not gonna ‘go for it again’. I mean, we only have a few days here,” Akira protested.

“You never know what could happen in a few days,” Ann said mysteriously. “This is a city of romance, after all!”

“Romantically sinking into the ocean as we speak,” Futaba said from the floor.

Akira rolled his eyes. “I should think a wedding is romance enough.”

“Oh, Akira,” Ann said, looking smug. “When you get to be old and wise like me, you’ll see that there’s always more than enough love to go around.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my apologies if i got anything wrong about aikido, i tried to be accurate... also i'm really awful at replying to comments but thank you so much to everyone who's been leaving them or just reading it means a lot to me <3


	5. walking a line

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello sorry it took longer between updates this time school was happening hopefully it'll be a shorter wait until the next chapter + chapter count increase bc i can't shut up apparently
> 
> ALSO i thought i might as well leave my [spotify playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/officialmaaha/playlist/1Sh8aet6rPjyDlNccyNdkd) for this fic here in case anyone is interested (though as a whole it'll make more sense by the end)
> 
> thanks for reading as always :-)

The first first time happened about a week after the conversation with Akechi in the library.

“So this is the kind of thing you do for fun,” Akechi said, the beginning of a laugh adding color to his voice.

“What, did you expect something more illegal?” Akira said, grinning as the cat in his arms purred.

Akira had found that the way people behaved around animals was a remarkably accurate way to judge their characters. A former friend from one of his first-year seminars had taken great pleasure in scaring the birds on campus and later ended up getting kicked out of school for drunkenly instigating a fight. He’d privately judged Sojiro to be an asshole for the first few weeks he’d lived under his roof– until he saw him taking the time to feed a stray cat in the alley behind Leblanc.

When he’d made plans for himself and Akechi to spend an hour or two at the cat shelter he volunteered at whenever he had the time, he didn’t really have ulterior motives. But it was interesting nonetheless to see how Akechi was acting.

In a word, Akira decided, Akechi was _cautious_. His movements were noticeably careful, a hesitation in the way he kneeled and regarded the cats, wary and contemplative. Akira watched him gingerly put out a hand for a kitten and smile when it came closer, an expression more relieved than triumphant. As soon as Akechi knew he had the cat’s approval, something in him seemed to unwind a little, and the expression on his face turned fond as he tilted his head and let the kitten sniff his hand.

It was a relief, because Akira wasn’t sure if they would have been able to make this work if Akechi wasn’t at least a little bit of a cat person.

“Well, this isn’t something I would usually anticipate for a first date,” Akechi said, smirking.

“But you like it, because I’m exciting and unpredictable and find new, inventive ways to bring you out from behind the walls of your gilded ivory tower,” said Akira, smiling wisely.

Akechi snorted. “How rebellious of you.”

Akira had known the cat he was holding for quite a while, now; she was his favorite at the shelter. One-eared and prone to frequent purring, her name was Hecate. Possibly she was one of the most significant figures in Akira’s life, but he couldn’t take her home. God, he really hated how his landlord didn’t allow pets.

Petting her with care, Akira said “I think you’re a bit of a rebel yourself.”

“Ha. Why do you say that?”

“I don’t know. Call it a sixth sense for deviancy.”

Akechi scoffed gently. “Well, I’d have to disagree.” He bowed his head to coo at the cat that had taken to him, his hair hiding his eyes so Akira couldn’t see his expression, but something in his voice seemed more pensive. After a moment, he added “The opportunity to rebel was never one granted to me.”

When Akechi talked like that, words revealing little but heavy with the weight of all the things he’d left unsaid, Akira couldn’t help but wonder what other sides there were to to him. The more he saw of Akechi, the more he wanted to see.

“Oh,” Akechi said suddenly– the cat that had been lying at his feet was now bounding away. They watched it run somewhere, unbothered.

“Want to hold Hecate?” Akira said, holding the cat out to him.

Akechi reached for her a little gingerly, letting loose a quiet _oof_ when Akira deposited the full weight of the feline into his arms. Bringing her close to his chest, he regarded her and said “Hello there.” In response, Hecate brought her small head up to rub against Akechi’s face, and he laughed, surprised and pleased.

Quietly, Akira reached in his back pocket for his cell phone. Absorbed in play with Hecate, Akechi didn’t even notice what Akira was doing until after he’d snapped the photo.

“What–” Akechi said, looking up, but before he could go on Akira turned his phone around to show him the image on the screen– a perfect picture of Akechi and the cat.

“Look, two of my favorite things,” Akira said, grinning, and even though Akechi rolled his eyes, he couldn’t hide the flush that appeared on his face.

* * *

Akira was woken suddenly and unceremoniously by Ryuji’s elbow jabbing him in the nose.

“Jesus fucking–” Akira gasped, jolting awake and turning to demand what the hell he’d done to deserve this, but the elbow’s owner was very much asleep, offending arm flat on the hotel bed.

“Ryuji,” Akira said, and when that got no response, “ _Ryuji,_ ” a decibel or two higher, but his friend only mumbled something in his slumber and turned over, sheets rustling in his wake.

Flopping on his back and mentally swearing revenge, Akira blinked slowly and stared at the ceiling with sleep-heavy, unfocused eyes. After he started to feel somewhat like a human being, he propped himself up on his elbows and looked around the room. Last night they’d all crashed in here, but now Ann was nowhere to be seen. Futaba was gone, too– Akira would have to check up with her later. The room was still looking worse for wear after their drawn-out pillow battle. _I am so sorry, housekeeping. I’m definitely leaving a substantial tip._

He didn’t even have to check the time; the bright light streaming through the windows indicated it was probably approaching noon. Racking his still-tired brain, Akira vaguely recalled that the schedule for today had only listed various Niijima-Takamaki family activities, implying that the rest of them were free to do whatever they pleased.

 _So obviously I should go back to sleep._  It was a nice thought, but after a minute of torturous deliberation, the adult in him won out, and Akira rolled out of bed with a groan.

He made sure to be as loud and annoying as possible, jostling Ryuji a few times for good measure, but his friend only mumbled sleepily and went back to snoring. _Asshole._

After brushing his teeth, Akira blearily headed out the door, groggy yet single-minded in his pursuit of caffeine. He read a message from Futaba, timestamped an hour and a half ago, in the elevator: “ _ann dragged me away (also WOKE ME UP) 2 help with stuff SAVE URSELF_ ”, and then a bunch of disgruntled emoticons. No doubt she’d make it her first priority to nap after Ann released her and went to keep her family company; he probably wouldn’t be seeing Futaba for a while.

Stepping out of the elevator, he saw Okumura seated at one of the tables in the lobby right away. She was scribbling something in a small notebook. Absorbed in her task, she didn’t notice as Akira walked over to refuel at the coffee machine and only looked up, eyes widening in surprise, when he took a seat across from her.

“Oh– good morning, Kurusu!”

In lieu of replying, Akira took a big sip, closing his eyes as the hot drink reinvigorated him. Only after swallowing did he look up at Okumura. “G’morning.”

Okumura raised her eyebrows curiously. “Doesn’t that burn?”

Akira waved a noncommittal hand. “Don’t worry about it.” He sat back in his chair. “So what’s up with you?”

She twirled her pen in her hand. “I have some time right now, but I have to set up for the family luncheon soon.”

“Oh, the one that was on the itinerary.”

“Yes. Before that, though, I thought it would be nice to step out of the hotel for a bit, even if just to visit a few shops. Even so, I’m not sure if I should take time to relax, considering what we discussed yesterday is still at the forefront of my mind.”

“Oh, yeah! The kitchen bandit…”

Okumura sighed. “My small problem, yes. And it appears that this thief struck again last night.”

“What?” Akira leaned forward. “Seriously?”

“Unfortunately, it seems that way. This morning when I went down to the kitchen, the place was a complete mess, and things were missing, too… I had to run and replace the lost items, but I’m not sure how else to investigate.” She sighed once more and rubbed her temples.

“Look,” Akira suggested, “how about I look into that now? You deserve a break, and I don’t really have anything planned for today, anyway.”

“Well, I would absolutely hate to impose–” Okumura began, but Akira cut her off.

“I already said I would help you out, right? Seriously, it’s no trouble at all.”

“You did, didn’t you.” Okumura smiled. “Well, then, thank you once again, Kurusu. Now actually would be a good time, if you’re able. Akechi is there at the moment, so he might be able to fill you in.”

"Oh.” _Hm_. “Goro’s there? Right now?”

“Yes, he was here for breakfast this morning when I discovered the situation and offered his help again. Is that a problem?” Okumura said, sympathetic. God, she’d probably heard about their history from Ann. _That gossip. Note to self: yell at her later… no, what’s the point; she’ll just trick me into forgiving her somehow._ Okumura did seem genuinely concerned, though– it was sweet. _At least somebody around here cares about my poor, tender heart._

“Nope. Not a problem at all. Two heads are better than one and everything.” Akira stood up. “I’ll go check it out. And you go have fun, Okumura.”

Okumura smiled again. “I’ll see you later, then!”

Akira waved goodbye and made his way through to the back of the dining area. He thought someone might stop him before he entered the kitchen, but the space was mostly empty, save for a few hotel guests milling around; they’d stopped serving breakfast a while ago. Akira pushed at the double doors behind the bar and stepped inside.

It was a nice space: slightly bigger than he’d expected, and like the rest of the hotel, somehow dignified despite being obviously old. The appliances, on the other hand, were clearly modern– nice-looking stove below the cabinets, stainless steel fridge up against the wall, and, last but not least, one Goro Akechi installed on the floor, kneeling to examine something on the linoleum tiles. He looked up when Akira let the door close behind him.

“Hey,” Akira said flatly. Looking at Goro, he felt his irritation from the night before return. _Whatever. Just a few more days of this left._

“Hello, Akira,” Goro said slowly, straightening and smoothing down invisible folds in his dress shirt **.** He’d actually deigned to wear jeans today, which had the effect of making him seem a little softer around the edges. Akira looked for signs of hostility and found nothing, just a kind of weary hesitation written in the line of his shoulders and in his furrowed brow. Well, he could handle that, at least. “You’re up early.”

“It’s noon.”

“Yes, but I know how much you can sleep when you have the opportunity.”

“True.” Even during school, he’d power through the week on only a few hours of sleep a day before collapsing into unconsciousness for obscenely long amounts of time on days off. “A demonic force woke me up.”

“I see.” His gaze flickered to Akira’s hands. “Nice nails.”

“Oh, thanks.” Akira held his hand in front of him and examined Ann’s handiwork. “Hey, can I paint yours? No one else will let me.”

“...I will have to refrain, thank you.” _Was worth a try._ “I’m currently attempting to discover the truth behind Okumura’s issue.”

“That’s why I’m here, too. I just spoke to her a few minutes ago. You’re serious about this, then?”

“I did say I’d look into the situation, and I’m not one to renege on a commitment,” Goro said, affixing a hand to his hip and looking straight at Akira as if daring him to comment.

Akira almost did, because that was something he would have probably never heard the old Goro say. Back in the day, Goro’s allegiance had been hard-won– though he’d excelled at collecting loyalties, winning over professors and contacts with charm, he’d always been careful not to align himself too strongly with anything or anyone. Would the Goro he used to know go out of his way to ease a caterer’s woes? If there was some kind of merit award involved, maybe. But instead of pointing that out, he said instead “Well, anyway, I guess you must be used to this kind of stuff.”

“...How so?” Goro questioned.

“Like, y’know, investigating. To solve crimes.”

“Akira, what do you think the job of a lawyer consists of?”

“Uh, I just said it? Solving crimes.” Akira surveyed the crime scene. “Hey, that’s suspicious-ish.” His attention was captured by a large packet of what looked like flour, lying flat on the floor near the counter. The fine white powder had spilled all over the floor.

Sighing, Goro gave up and came over to stand beside him. “Yes, I examined that when I entered. It seems like the bag was already open before being pushed over.”

“Huh.” Akira squinted at the mess as if glaring hard enough would cause it to reveal its secrets. “This person was sloppy.”

“It seems so.” Goro gestured to a jug that was lying flat on the counter, its contents dripping onto the floor and leaving it wet, to illustrate.

“Seems like they left a trail, though,” Akira said.

He and Goro both looked down at the floor again, where traces of flour made up a spotty path that led up to the door.“Yes,” Goro replied. “However, it ends right outside the kitchen, where the carpet begins. I assume an employee cleaned it up this morning.”

“Guess that would’ve been too easy. Just out of curiosity, why didn’t anyone clean in here?”

“I asked Okumura to ensure no one would, so I could look things over for clues.”

“You’ve really taken to this detective gig, huh?”

Goro gave him a polite, distant smile that said _shut up._

“Well, anyway,” Akira said, stretching, “is there anything else in here we should take note of?”

“Yes, there were other things that had been disturbed– several packets of salmon, for one thing, and a few lesser items, like some packets of those garish green cloth napkins they insist on using at the restaurant.”

“Huh. So, wait… all that’s missing or got messed up is food? No expensive kitchen appliances or whatever?”

“It seems that way,” Goro said dubiously.

Akira scratched the back of his head. “You know, I have to ask... Is this really–”

“Significant? Ultimately worth my time? I doubt it. However, I made a promise, and if a single thing goes awry for Makoto this weekend I won’t be at all pleased.”

“Well, I feel the same way about Ann.”

“...Then I suppose we have a common goal.”

They appraised each other with a new respect. Akira wasn’t sure if he was imagining it, but he thought he could sense the beginnings of a kind of truce being born between them. There was something almost cinematic about forming a partnership with an old flame to solve a compelling mystery for the sake of the friends they knew and loved. Even though they were basically just running around a hotel looking for scraps of food. Whatever– Akira was free to dramatize it in his mind.

“Should we question the staff?” Akira suggested. “They might have some information.”

“That seems like a logical next step. I’m sure they’d have taken note of something–”

“Fishy? Something fishy?” Akira said immediately.

Goro cut his eyes at him.

“Because of the salmon.”

“I was going to say something suspicious.”

Akira grinned. “You should work on your comedic timing.”

“You know,” Goro said, looking at him with what Akira felt was undue scrutiny, “some parts of you haven’t changed at all.”

“Oh, really?” Akira raised his chin defiantly, unwilling to shrink under Goro’s shrewd look. “What has changed, then?”

For a moment, Goro seemed as if he was actually going to respond, but when he simply smirked and said “For one thing, you’ve clearly put on weight,” Akira knew he wasn’t getting an honest answer.

“Oh, ha ha,” Akira said dryly as Goro snickered, a remarkably un-Goro action that made him seem much younger. “You know, I don’t remember your sense of humor being this evil.”

“To adapt to my work life I’ve found it healthy to externalize parts of my internal monologue,” Goro replied, flattening his grin and returning to a professional air. “Others usually seem to find it funny. So I’d say my comedic timing is just fine.”

“They probably just laugh because they don’t realize that you actually mean most of it,” Akira muttered.

Goro smiled amiably. “Probably. Shall we go, then?” He angled his head in the direction of the lobby.

Akira rolled his eyes. “I guess we shall.”

* * *

The second first time was when Akechi entered Akira’s apartment in a bluster of winter wind, soaked so wet droplets of water fell off the ends of his hair and onto Akira’s floor, murmuring apologies and something about a forgotten umbrella, looking like a thoroughly disgruntled wet puppy.

Akira should have waited, at least until Akechi had unbuttoned his coat, but instead he found himself saying “Can I kiss you?”

“Now?” said Akechi, flabbergasted. It was a valid objection; he was thoroughly wet and standing in the doorway, mouth agape in a way not even the most affectionate observer could label attractive, a far cry from the way he usually presented himself: polished, pressed, perfected. Even as he composed himself Akira didn’t miss the way he self-consciously raising a hand to smooth his hair, uncertain and obviously out of his element.

It was impossible to not want to kiss him. Akira nodded in affirmation.

Akechi took a breath and said “Yes.”

So Akira did, because something about a rain-soaked, flustered Akechi was almost unbearably endearing, attractive in a way that felt magnetic. Akechi’s skin, when Akira kissed him, smelled like a cleansing storm, the firm grip of his hand tangled in the hair at the base of Akira’s neck acting as an anchor, Akechi’s small sigh as they pulled away like the last forgiving winds of a fading tempest.

“I’m sorry,” Akechi said, looking at Akira’s chest, because the front of his shirt was wet now, too.

They smiled at each other, and then both laughed. “Don’t be,” Akira said, and he meant it because it was all okay, it was better than okay.

* * *

“I’ll handle this,” Goro said as they approached the reception area, so Akira stood back and was duly surprised when Goro caught the attention of the woman standing behind the desk and asked her a question in halting Italian.

The woman laughed and said something back, slowly so Goro could understand. smiling adoringly at him like she’d never encountered someone more delightful. Goro laughed in return, all but fluttering his eyelashes. Akira took the opportunity to mime gagging, even though no one was looking at him.

Eventually the hideously cute conversation ended and Goro turned back to Akira.

“Had a good talk?” Akira said dryly.

“Yes, very pleasant.” Goro smoothly adjusted the sleeves of his shirt.

“How much Italian do you know?”

“Not very much– I only took the opportunity to study some phrases and words in the weeks leading up to this trip. Didn’t you?”

Akira shrugged. “No? I mean, I can speak conversational English, and most people here know it well enough to be able to understand.”

“Hm,” Goro said. “I suppose that’s enough. I simply thought it’d be interesting to see how much I could learn. Besides, it’s nice to attain experience with languages– and enjoyable to study how phrases and expressions can vary across countries and cultures. I often think that if I chose instead to go into academia during the course of my career, I would dabble in translating. It seems like a fulfilling field of study.” He noticed Akira looking at him and raised an eyebrow. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” Akira said quickly. So Goro could still do that thing, when he honeyed his words and made them somehow… captivating, no matter the topic at hand– except now it seemed less intentional and more natural, like he’d grown into his own charisma. It was a strange thing to witness, giving Akira a feeling he couldn’t place. “So what did she even say?”

“She told me that a member of the janitorial staff had mentioned having to clean up after significant messes in two places– near the kitchen and on the second floor.”

“Second floor? Is that still related to our problem?”

“There’s only one way to find out, isn’t there?” Goro folded his arms.

“Right.” Akira looked over in the direction of the elevator. “Let’s check it out.”

There was something about Goro, Akira couldn’t help but notice, that had seemed a little more intense since they’d started with this. His eyes were brighter, his foot restlessly tapping the carpeted floor of the elevator after they’d entered it. It wasn’t immediately obvious, but in close quarters like this, Akira could suddenly tell Goro was all but buzzing with energy.

“You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?” Akira said.

Goro started a little, as if coming out of a reverie. “What do you mean by that?”

“Nothing. You just seem like you’re having a good time.” Akira couldn’t hide his grin.

Goro all but turned his nose up in the air. “Don’t be ridiculous. If anything, this is an inconvenience.”

“Uh-huh,” Akira said, just as the bell dinged for the second floor. They stepped out of the elevator. “Just like how it was inconvenient back in school, that time when you thought people in that one class you had were all sharing exam answers with each other? You had a great time investigating that.”

“It was necessary to protect the integrity of the classroom,” Goro grumbled, walking past him.

Akira smirked and strode to keep up. “Right.”

It didn’t take very long to find something amiss– a mop and a bucket leaning against the wall, next to a window. An unlabelled door was a little ways away. While Akira headed for the door, Goro approached the window.

Goro was looking at the window near the cleaning supplies and then back at the others in the hall. “This window only has one planter box on the sill, but the others have two.” He looked into the bucket. “The water inside has been mixed with dirt, it looks like. I assume one of the boxes fell over and caused the mess.” Goro scrutinized the ground. “It seems it extended all the way to that door, since the floor is still wet over there.”

“Gross,” Akira said. He looked back at the door, but saw it was secured with a keycard lock, like the kind on the doors to all the guests’ rooms.

“We can’t get in?” Goro asked, coming over to stand beside him.

“Annoying,” Akira said, tugging uselessly at the handle. “Maybe Okumura could get us access? She’s been sharing the kitchen with the hotel staff, so I’m sure she knows them.”

“Perhaps, but have you seen her around?”

“No,” Akira admitted. “She said she was going to be out for a while.”

Goro frowned, reminding Akira a little of a child whose play had been interrupted. He sighed and ran an absent hand through his hair. “I suppose I should keep looking around here. Perhaps we can find something without needing to enter the room...”

“Yeah,” Akira said, “you just try that.” An idea was slowly taking shape in his mind.

“Akira,” Goro said, and Akira turned his attention back to him. His expression was wary. “I’m not sure I like the look on your face.”

“Don’t worry. Just keep searching.” Grinning to himself, Akira turned around, feeling confident. “I’ll be right back.”

It wasn’t as if he’d put a lot of work into painstakingly cultivating the particular skill he was about to use. Akira was just _good_ at it. He knew it wasn’t something to be particularly proud of, but he couldn’t help but feel something close to a thrill when he positioned himself in one of the short hallways that was lined with doors to rooms for the guests, leaning back against the wall and waiting. It was only three or four minutes before he heard footsteps coming from around a corner, and it was seconds after that when he saw the person they belonged to– another employee, a man, easily identifiable from the distinctive uniform. It was easy to walk briskly in his direction, pretending to be distracted by his phone, and bump straight into him, the employee emitting a surprised _oh!_ It was a natural movement when Akira pressed a hand against the man’s chest pocket for just a fraction of an instant to balance himself. And it only took a few seconds to apologize, making sure to look flustered and embarrassed, before he excused himself and walked past. The whole thing took less than a minute, and when it was over, Akira had what he’d been aiming for in his hand– a thin, white keycard from the man’s pocket, just like the kind he used to unlock his room.

Akira slipped his prize into his own back pocket and briskly turned back the way he’d come. Goro was further away from the door now, walking in the opposite direction, but he must have heard Akira’s footsteps, because he turned around. “What is it? Did you find something?”

In answer, Akira pulled the keycard out of his pocket and held it up.

Goro narrowed his eyes at the small plastic card for a second before saying, resigned, “I suppose I don’t want to know how that came into your possession?”

Akira grinned. “Probably not.”

“Did the irony of stealing while attempting to apprehend a thief ever occur to you?”

“...No, actually. It’s pretty funny, though, huh?”

Akira could see the entirety of an internal ethical debate play out on Goro’s face before he seemed to give in and sighed. “Let’s just use this before we’re caught.”

“I like the way you think, Sherlock,” said Akira.

“And what a morally dubious Boswell I would find myself lost without,” Goro said with a long-suffering shake of his head. Was there something close to fondness in his tone? ... _Nah._

They walked back over to the closet. Goro gestured at the door, as if to say _be my guest._ Akira swiped the card against and waited– sure enough, the light blinked green and the door swung open when he tried the handle. He grinned, victorious.

“Stop it,” Goro said.

“Stop what?”

“Stop looking smug.”

Akira gave him his best smirk. “Whatever do you mean?”

It was dark inside the small room until Goro felt for the switch on the wall and flipped it on. The harsh, white tube light illuminated a small closet, clearly used for cleaning, judging from the brooms, mops, and buckets lined up against the wall and on the floor and the bottles of what looked like bleach on the shelves.

There was also a lot of dirt tracked onto the floor.

“Jeez,” Akira said. “They didn’t clean up in here?”

“Too preoccupied with the mess outside, I assume **.”**

They took a closer look at the ground. Akira kneeled down, frowning. Something about the way the dirt was arranged seemed… distinctive.

“Goro,” Akira intoned. “Do you think these could be–”

“Are those _paw prints?”_ said Goro, his voice thick with disbelief.

Sure enough, there were dainty prints smeared into the floor, tracked all around the small room.

“Right, then,” Akira said. “Seems like they’re from a cat, by the looks of it. I guess it came in here somehow earlier and got shooed away?”

Goro frowned. “If it was just a cat that was in this room, then it looks as if this is all unrelated to our thief.”

“Hang on,” said Akira. He hadn’t yet risen from the floor. “Doesn’t look like there’s just dirt here.”

“Not just dirt?” Goro repeated, leaning over to look. “Then what–” His eyes narrowed. “Is that–”

“Flour,” Akira said.

They were quiet for a moment.

Akira grinned. “Seems like this whole thing _is_ related to our problem.”

“...So this cat was in the kitchen,” Goro said. “That doesn’t necessarily have to mean anything.”

“Not just _in_ the kitchen. Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m getting at.”

“Akira, we weren’t told anything about an animal when we were sent on this errand. Okumura and the staff seemed convinced that the culprit was decidedly human. Do you really think they’d make such a mistake?”

“I mean, not really, but doesn’t this make sense when you think about it?”

Goro folded his arms.

“Sherlock Holmes said something about this, you know,” Akira added. “That, like… the impossible is actually true sometimes. Or something.”

“It was that when you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains is naturally the truth, no matter how improbable,” Goro murmured, a hand at his chin. “I’m not sure that applies in our current situation. Have we really eliminated all other options?”

“I mean, let’s look at the facts. There’s the prints, plus–” Akira turned his head. “Do you see those cardboard boxes? One of them’s open. I’d bet you anything a cat had been in it, probably napping. Cats _love_ boxes.”

Goro approached the box and looked inside, leaning over. “...There’s definitely hair from some kind of animal in it. Oh–” He started.

“What is it?”

“...Shreds. Of what looks like– those awful green napkins. From the kitchen.”

Akira smiled triumphantly.

“All right, so there was a cat in here, and probably in the kitchen as well,” Goro conceded. “But you’re forgetting that we didn’t see any prints in the kitchen. If this cat got in the flour, they should have been visible.”

“But what about that jug of water that had been knocked over? It would have obscured prints.”

Goro ran a hand through his hair. “All right. Let’s follow the path of this hypothetical cat. It would have somehow gotten into the kitchen and made a mess, covering itself with flour in the process, and then somehow made its way up to this floor, knocking over the flower-box before taking shelter in this room. Its whereabouts are currently unknown. Furthermore, the thief had struck the night before, as well, so it would have had to have gotten into the kitchen at least one other time.”

Akira shrugged. “It’s not that implausible.”

Goro was quiet for a momet. Then he sighed and shook his head. “You’re right, aren’t you.”

“Usually am,” Akira hummed.

Goro pinched the bridge of his nose. “I can’t believe that all along, we’d been searching for a feline.”

“Killed some time, though,” Akira said, idly checking his phone.

“I suppose so. Well.” He dusted himself off. “That was a ridiculous exercise. Shall we get out of this closet?”

“Yes, please.”

They headed back down to the lobby and found the catering staff starting to prepare for the luncheon. After informing them of what they’d discovered and sending Okumura a message saying as much, they found themselves standing aimlessly near reception.

Akira smiled. “Feels good to solve a mystery.”

“We haven’t quite solved it yet,” Goro pointed out. “We’ll need to find this animal and make sure its transgressions aren’t repeated.”

“Yeah, yeah. We have plenty of time to arrest the cat later. Besides…” A slight suspicion, supplanted with some stray observations he’d made in the past few days, crept up in Akira’s mind. “I have a feeling it won’t be that hard to find.”

Goro raised his eyebrows, but when Akira didn’t elaborate, he only shook his head slightly. “It’s unbelievable that a mere cat could have managed to evade capture so far, but now that the staff is aware of the source of the disturbances, they should have no problem preventing it from entering the kitchen.” He snorted. “And if they are, they’re simply incompetent. I have half a mind to advise Okumura to hire an entirely new crew. She shouldn’t have had to deal with this problem at all.”

“Hey, they were swamped with stuff to do. And cats can be tricky to catch, you know.”

Goro shook his head. “At any rate, that’s over with. I suppose we do make a good pair of detectives.”

“S’pose so,” Akira said.

There was a silence, then, another one of those pauses that had come to characterize the relationship between himself and Goro ever since that first conversation on the day Akira and Futaba had arrived. It filled the space between them quickly, like water rising to flood a closed room, equal parts tense and awkward and– expectant, almost, like there was something else to be explored in the depths of this uneasy partnership. It was only after their banter had fizzled out, Akira realized, that he’d even noticed they’d managed to replicate their old back-and-forth at all, and in a way that felt surprisingly natural, too.

It was also _fun_. Nothing about that little escapade had felt like a duty, and if Akira had to bet, he’d say Goro felt the same way, even if he would probably adamantly refuse to admit it. Akira had even mostly forgotten to be angry, though Goro’s words from yesterday still stung.

An urgent impulse pressed at Akira, something that made him wonder if this was really all there was– just a hour spent looking for a cat, and then a return to that formal distance between them **.** Something about that didn’t feel right.

So he steeled himself and asked “Hey, do you... have anything else to do today?”

Goro’s eyebrows shot up for just an instant before returning to their neutral line; the only sign that Akira’s question had taken him by surprise. “I was going to look over some files.”

“For _work_?” Akira said incredulously. Goro’s mouth did the annoyed _c_ thing, so he hastened to add “Didn’t you want to, y’know, explore some more? It’s not like the stuff we saw yesterday was all Venice has to offer.”

“Well,” Goro admitted, “I did consider visiting some of the local eateries later on.”

Akira spread his hands. “No better time than the present. I mean… I was going to head out in a bit, if you wanted to come with.”

“With _you_?” Goro said, and seemed to hear the tone of his own voice and wince.

It shouldn’t have hurt, but somehow it still stung. “Ouch,” Akira said.

“I’m sorry.” Surprisingly, it sounded like Goro meant it. “I didn’t mean it that way. I would–” He hesitated before saying his next words carefully. “I wouldn’t mind your company, Akira.”

 _Funny, because seems like you’ve minded it for the past few days._ In his own way, though, Goro seemed like he was actually trying to be civil. Akira supposed he would take what he could get. “Well, great. I’ll just go get my stuff from my room?”

Goro nodded. “Of course. I’ll wait here, then.”

“Awesome. Back in a flash,” Akira said, turning and heading for the elevator.

He had no idea how this was going to turn out. _Seriously, what am I even doing?_

He could feel it– the anticipation, the sense of nervous accomplishment that came with making just a little bit more progress.

But progress towards… what?

_What do you want from Akechi, Akira?_

He resolved to not think about it too much.

* * *

The third first time was something bigger, but throughout it all Akira couldn’t stop laughing. Even Akechi’s irritation was no deterrent for his mirth, the best kind, born from the most pleasant combination of giddy happiness and the lovely, freeing feeling of finally being able to do what he’d been endlessly imagining doing as of late. He pressed kisses into Akechi’s collarbone and then giggled into the crook of his neck, breathing whispers that turned into chuckles he couldn’t contain.

“Stupid _,”_ Akechi had breathed at first, tugging at Akira’s hair to get him to take things seriously, and then eventually given in and started laughing himself, the two of them there in the dark, making fools of themselves together.

After, when Akechi was lying with his face tucked into Akira’s neck, Akira said “You know, you can call me Akira.”

“I should certainly hope I can, now,” Akechi said, snorting, but after a pause he added, voice a little quieter, “Goro is fine.”

 _Goro._ Akira’s mouth soundlessly formed the syllables. He didn’t seem to be able to stop smiling.

“...Stop it,” Akechi said.

“Stop what?” Akira said, confused.

“Stop being smug.”

“Hey, I’m not being smug!”

Akechi reached out and lightly poked him in the forehead. “And yet I can sense how cocky you’re feeling.”

Akira laughed. “I’m just happy, okay? And maybe a little cocky, yeah.”

“...Stupid,” Akechi said again, but it was easy to tell from his voice that he was pleased.

They fell into a content silence. Akechi shifted, and Akira could see his eyes were closed. As the minutes passed, Akira couldn’t tell if he had fallen asleep.

“Hey, uh… Goro?” God, he was going to have to get used to that.

Akechi's eyes opened; he was awake. “Yes?” He turned on his shoulder, lifting his head so they were looking straight at each other.

“I just want you to know that you make me– really happy,” said Akira. “Seriously.”

Looking up at him, hair mussed, unguarded, Akira thought the expression on Akechi’s face was one of almost comically exaggerated surprise, his lips pursed outward in a small _o_ and his eyebrows raised. He looked at him like that for a moment, then sighed and hid his face again, grasping Akira’s left hand and intertwining their fingers.

“What?” Akechi’s hand felt warm against his.

“Nothing. It’s only that nothing you say is what I ever expect you to say and I’m still getting used to being so often caught by surprise, is all.”

Akira smiled even wider and squeezed Akechi’s hand. “You think way too much.”

“Probably,” Akechi agreed, and squeezed back, carefully.

* * *

After Akira had returned the keycard to the front desk, innocently telling the receptionist someone must have dropped it as Goro stood behind him shaking his head, the two of them caught a water bus to Murano. This was a group of tiny, connected islands that were technically a part of Venice in some way Akira didn’t remember.

“Murano is famous for its glass wares,” Goro told him, speaking a little louder to be heard over the rush of water; they were standing out on the deck as they had the day before. So were a whole lot of other people, making the journey a little uncomfortable, but Akira was a veteran of the metropolitan Tokyo transportation system; a bunch of tourists packed into a boat were nothing. “Centuries ago, the glassblowers from Venice were all forced to relocate there, because of the dangers posed by fire.”

“Oh, cool,” Akira said, raising his voice as well. “That’s why you wanted to check it out?”

“...To be sincere, there is a renowned gelateria on Murano that I’m more interested in. The art is a welcome benefit, however.”

The tour yesterday had been fun, but Akira was eager to engage in self-directed exploration. He hadn’t really anticipated that Goro would end up being by his side, or that he’d be the one to choose where they were headed, but in a way, the whole thing was kind of exciting. Or it could just be a terrible mistake. Either way, he’d know soon.

Akira’s phone buzzed in his pocket, distracting him from his musings. He pulled it out, taking care not to jostle anyone near him on the crowded deck,and turned up the brightness on the screen, squinting to see the display in the glare of the sunlight. 

 

> _Unknown sender  
>  _ Kurusu, I must ask for your cooperation in an urgent matter  
>  It involves my project

_Project?_ Akira frowned in confusion, and then realization dawned.  

 

> _Akira Kurusu_  
>  wait is this Kitagawa  
>  did Ryuji give you my number
> 
> _Yusuke Kitagawa  
>  _ I did receive your information from Sakamoto, although that matters not– allow me to cut to the chase
> 
> _Akira Kurusu  
>  _ cool I love cutting to the chase

–> _Yusuke Kitagawa sent_ IMG_088646647.jpg   

 

> _Yusuke Kitagawa  
>  _ Did you take this photo at the Bridge of Sighs?

Akira took a look at the image and recognized it at once. He’d indeed taken it the day before in an attempt to capture the bridge near Doge’s Palace. There had been a lot of tourists, and no matter how hard he’d tried, he hadn’t been able to get a good shot. Eventually he’d slipped away from the group and convinced a local who had been sailing underneath to allow him to stand in his boat, so he could get a picture from the water. Even so, the only thing he could get was a picture of the underside of the bridge, a thoroughly unsatisfying result– this was the image Kitagawa had sent. 

 

> _Akira Kurusu_  
>  oh what  
>  how did you even get that
> 
> _Yusuke Kitagawa  
>  _ I retrieved it from the online album Ann created and shared with everyone
> 
> _Akira Kurusu_  
>  oh yeah I have been uploading stuff to that
> 
> _Yusuke Kitagawa_  
>  Is it the Bridge of Sighs?
> 
> _Akira Kurusu_  
>  yeah that’s where it’s from  
>  why do you want to know it’s a pretty awful picture

“Akira?” Goro’s voice made him look up. “I believe the next stop is ours.”

“Oh, okay.”

Akira looked at his phone again, but there was no reply from Kitagawa. Shrugging, Akira slipped his phone back into his pocket. _Oh, art types._

“Nice conversation?” Goro said, in that way that Akira had always heard people say things when they wanted to know the contents of his messages but didn’t want to say it outright.

“I guess. Kitagawa was asking about a photo I took.”

“Ah, was that it? I thought I could tell the two of you were getting along.” There was a clear implication in his words.

“Oh, I’m not–” Akira said immediately, but Goro was looking away with a kind of evident disinterest that made it clear he was actually very interested in Akira’s reply. _Oh. So it’s like that._ He decided to switch gears. “Well, who knows? I thought I could sense something between us. Maybe it’s our mutual instinct to create, you know? Do you think that could be it?”

“Perhaps,” Goro said casually. “Of course, I’ve heard relationships based on that kind of thing have a tendency to fall apart in uniquely traumatic and destructive ways.” He shrugged neutrally. “But this is only hearsay, of course.”

Akira snorted. “Man, you can be ruthless, huh? I’m just kidding, Goro. I'm not into Kitagawa.”

“...Oh. Of course.” Goro flashed a dazzling smile and pushed up his sunglasses like it didn’t matter to him one way or the other.

After they disembarked, they walked along the water as directions from Goro’s phone led the way to his favored gelato shop. Murano had a slightly different vibe from central Venice– a little quieter, and while the city was still on a river, the absence of the Grand Canal made it seem more compacted. Even so, Akira was completely charmed. It was hard to not feel the need to take pictures of every colorful building, every sunlight-illuminated boat left along the dock, even every passerby. Stopping for the fifth time, he was so absorbed in his task that it took a while to notice Goro was watching him.

“Sorry,” Akira said sheepishly, lowering his camera.

“It’s all right,” Goro said, amused. “Is it like this for you everywhere you visit?”

“Well, kinda. There’s always the occasional city or deserted stretch of countryside I can’t wait to get away from. But it’s definitely easier for me to fall in love with places than it is for most people.”

“Hm,” Goro said, still watching him with a little smile playing at his lips. “I suppose I can see the appeal of that type of lifestyle, theoretically.”

Akira beamed at him. “That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

Goro rolled his eyes.

When they got to Goro’s gelateria of choice, an unassuming little storefront with a stretched awning above the door **,** they both took their time picking out flavors. After some deliberation, Akira went for pistachio and Goro settled on cherry. They sat at a small table outside, pulling up chairs with legs that scraped against the ground. The shade mostly provided respite from the heat, but sunlight still fell on their shoulders.

“It’s nice that it wasn’t difficult to find this place,” said Goro.

“Mm-hmm,” Akira said. He had been metaphorically holding his breath thus far, waiting for an argument, but he couldn’t sense any animosity radiating off Goro just then. The tranquility was a little uncanny, actually.

“Have you even eaten anything for breakfast?” Goro asked, at Akira dug in for the first spoonful.

“Uh… coffee. And this is what they call breakfast gelato.” Akira held up his bowl for emphasis.

“Not exactly a balanced meal.”

“Yeah, well, when in Rome,” Akira said offhandedly, going to take another bite. “Or Venice. Whatever.”

They ate their way through their desserts without saying much. After a few minutes the silence turned from generally companionable to slightly awkward. After another minute it had become nigh-unbearable. As Goro pretended to be absorbed in his phone, Akira racked his brain for conversation topics. What was he supposed to talk about with Goro? The past, as had been very clearly established, was off-limits. Bring up the present and there was a chance Goro would turn evasive, if the pattern of his resistance to all of Akira’s attempts to get to know him could be trusted. Future plans? God, no, they were in their 20s; Akira barely knew what he was going to be doing next week.

His best bet, Akira reasoned, would be to ask about Goro’s accomplishments. There was no way Goro would miss a chance to brag, or to possibly make Akira feel bad about his life or his bank account. Akira would listen to him talk about all the crimes he’d solved or whatever and then they’d be able to segue into casual conversation about other things. It was the perfect plan, and Akira was fully prepared to follow through with it when he opened his mouth and ended up saying “So, what do you think went wrong in our relationship?”

Goro, who had been just about to take a bite of his gelato, stopped halfway to bringing the spoon to his mouth. He looked at Akira. His eyes narrowed.

“Wait, I’m sorry, hang on, I didn’t mean that,” Akira said quickly. “It just slipped out, don’t even worry about…”

Akira trailed off, because in one fluid motion, Goro put the spoon to his mouth, swallowed, and then set it down on the napkin on the table. “Fine.”

“Fine?” Akira was suddenly overcome by a powerful feeling of dread.

“Fine. Do you want to talk about this? Then _let’s talk_.” Goro leaned forward, folding his arms on the table. There was a steely, slightly manic look in his eyes that terrified Akira slightly.

Akira cleared his throat. “Uh, don’t get me wrong, I want to, but, uh, are you sure? I mean, you kind of said very clearly that you didn’t want–”

Goro cut him off. “As much as it… pained me, I’d accepted the fact that we would inevitably have this discussion at some point. Why did you think I agreed to your invitation today without any qualms?”

“You had some qualms,” Akira muttered. “Qualms were had.”

“Not as many as could have been in play, surely. I supposed we might as well get this over with. Besides, I’m an adult. I’m perfectly capable of having a rational discussion about a past relationship. Perfectly. Definitely. Why would I not be?” The last few words seemed mostly muttered to himself.

“Well… good,” Akira said, scratching the back of his head. “I’m glad. And listen, I’m sorry if I ever seemed confrontational or anything. I know I haven’t been as mature about this as I could have been for these past two days.”

Goro sighed. “It’s quite all right. I’m aware I didn’t make this easy on you.”

 _Victory!_ Akira couldn’t believe his gambit had worked. Or it hadn’t resulted in Goro flipping the table over, so it was enough of a win for him to write it off as a success. _For now._

He glanced at their empty bowls. “If we’re done here… want to take a walk? So we can talk. While walking. Walking and talking simultaneously.” _Now I’m going to ruin it with babbling._

“That’s fine with me,” Goro replied, probably choosing to ignore his jabbering. “I’ll return these.” He rose and took both of their bowls before entering the shop.

Watching him go back inside, Akira swallowed nervously. He only hoped this little stroll wouldn’t be something he’d end up regretting. _I’m not really in the mood to get verbally eviscerated on such a nice day._

Just after they’d gotten up to leave, (Goro looked meaningfully at Akira’s chair and then back at Akira until he got the message and pushed it into the table) Akira got his first photo of Goro.

He’d taken the opportunity when Goro had stopped for a moment to check something on his phone. After a moment, though, he put it away and looked out at the water, distantly contemplative. After he didn’t move for a moment, Akira silently raised his camera.

In the picture, Goro was turned away from the viewer, but his face was visible in profile, the frown on his face more introspective than discontent. The sun behind him tinged the strands of his hair golden.

It was a photo to be proud of. Akira smiled to himself.

They walked for a minute in silence. Akira waited for Goro to say something, but Goro seemed like he expected Akira to speak first. It became a silent battle of wills. Tensions were rising until Akira, upon seeing a pigeon diligently poking at some bread left on the ground **,** forgot about it and said “Hey, look at that bird.”

They watched it for a moment. It seemed more focused on its task than Akira thought he himself had been on any project in the past year.

“Fascinating,” Goro said.

Akira grinned. “Hey, do you remember when a pigeon got into my apartment?”

“...Oh, God.” Goro closed his eyes. “Yes. If I recall correctly, you called me in a panic late at night.”

“I thought it was a murderer,” Akira said sadly.

“I remember, yes. You were so wound up I had to come over and stay the night to calm you down.”

“Hey, you try waking up to loud, ominous rustling and bumping sounds in your own home.”

“You left the window open. And you weren’t asleep; you were writing a paper due the next morning.”

Akira waved a hand. “Same thing.”

They both shared a laugh.

“That was… good, right?” Akira said, fiddling with his fringe. “I mean, not me being traumatized by a bird, but… we did have good times. Didn’t we?”

“If you’re looking for me to assuage your ego by telling you how wonderful dating you was, I think I’ll stop you right there,” Goro said loftily.

“I’m not,” Akira protested. “Seriously, that’s not what I’m after. I just want to know if… looking back, do you at least still have good memories?”

Goro hesitated. For a moment he didn’t reply, visibly thinking it over. “I don’t regret our relationship, Akira, if that’s what you’re asking,” he finally said. “Being with you was... I suppose the word is _formative._ I learned a lot during the course of our time together, and enjoyed the majority of it, so yes, I have some good memories of those years.” He gave him a shifty look. “Do _you_?”

“Hey, don’t try to turn this around on me,” Akira protested. But even as he said it, he noticed that Goro wasn’t looking at him, his gaze fixed instead on the water.

It was just like before, when Goro had asked about Kitagawa– his apparent detachment indicating the exact opposite sentiment. Like Akira, he now wanted an honest answer.

Akira was proud of himself for realizing, and then simultaneously thrilled and terrified, because holding that possibility in his hands– the tantalizing chance to get to know Goro’s little tells again, to pick apart his habits, old and new, to delve deeper into discovering how much five years had changed– was as tempting as it was a little… dangerous.

“I feel the same,” Akira said, and he didn’t have to work to sound sincere. “I don’t regret anything.”

It wasn’t a lie. Like he’d said to Makoto, dating Goro sometimes felt more strategic than romantic, but that didn’t mean it was all bad. It had been kind of like… researching a topic for a paper that had piqued his interest? It wasn't a very sexy metaphor, but whatever. Like there was a challenge at first, because the content was a little obscure, but with some more effort on his part things eventually started to fall into place, and the more he discovered the more he could feel a mounting satisfaction, until finally he came upon just the right piece of information that convinced him that all that work had been worth it, something uniquely, undeniably good had happened, something that just clicked– a connection that he hadn’t just imagined, but that had been there all along. And also the paper was really hot.

“I see.” Goro’s voice betrayed nothing, but somehow Akira felt that he was relieved.

“Let me ask you something else,” Akira said. “Why have you been so angry with me? I mean, did things really end that badly with us?”

“...Touché. I’m not angry at you, Akira. Not really.” Goro sounded tired. “I know I haven’t reacted well to seeing you here, but it isn’t because of how things between us ended **.** It’s simply that– you’re a remnant from a part of my life I don’t view with favor. What I said about enjoying my time with you is true, but it’s also truthful to say that when you and I were involved I felt a tremendous amount of... pressure. To succeed in my studies, to secure a future for myself, to maintain our relationship… the stress took its toll on me, and I dealt with it poorly. Running into you once again has forced me to remember things I’d rather have stayed buried– things I tried my best to leave behind– and I took it out on you with my behavior. For this, I apologize.”

“...Oh,” Akira said. He hadn’t expected _that._

He took a moment to process Goro’s words. So seeing Akira, for Goro, had basically been a very unpleasant surprise. Not really a boost to his ego. But such a refreshingly honest reply was welcome, and it felt a little like a load had been taken off his shoulders. He smiled brightly. “Well, you’re forgiven. You know me, I’m the most magnanimous guy to–”

“Don’t.”

“Right.”  

They turned a corner, their path narrowing as they walked further away from the wider part of the channel.

The essence of what Goro said was bugging him. Akira knew he should probably let it go and take some time to bask in the fulfilling feeling of actually getting an actual apology from Goro Akechi, but the urge to ask for clarification was too strong.

“Ah… Goro?”

“What?”

 _Oh, boy._ “Can I ask what… made that part of your life so hard?”

Goro’s expression turned a little dark. “...I don’t see that as a relevant question.”

“Okay, okay, I’ll back off.” But after a moment, Akira couldn’t stop himself from continuing. “I just… I mean, we were together for almost three years, and you never really talked to me about stuff, so…”

“I told you plenty,” Goro said, tone more than a little defensive.

Akira laughed, a little incredulously. “Seriously? Getting you to open up was like pulling teeth.”

“Did you want to know more?” Goro replied, but the way he said it made it sound more like a threat than a sincere question.

Akira opened his mouth to reply and maybe launch into a probably ill-advised tirade, but he stopped short when something he saw to his right caught his attention.

“What–” Goro began, frowning and looking over his shoulder when he realized Akira had stopped walking, but in the next second he, too, had turned to focus on the same thing.

Through a large window, the inside of what was clearly a glassblower’s studio was visible. There was one man inside that Akira could see, focused on his work. Akira watched him pull a rod with a red-hot bulb of glass attached at the end out of a furnace.

Akira pulled out his camera and took a few careful shots, focusing his framing on the glassblower’s hands and the deft way he turned the rod. There was something noble about the whole process, in the delicate caution the glassblower was using, in the way the furious heat of the glass turned quiet when it cooled. Akira didn’t want to leave without capturing the essence of the act.

He pulled open the door next to the window, thinking of only how he was going to do just that, until he heard Goro saying “Akira?”

Blinking, Akira looked over his shoulder. Goro had a quizzical look on his face.

“You coming in?” Akira said, and before Goro could reply he turned back around and entered.


	6. shoulder to shoulder

A responding sigh and footsteps behind him were enough to answer Akira’s question. As he and Goro stepped into the room, bells over the door jangled pleasantly.

“I’d read that they held demonstrations here in some of the shops and factories,” Goro said from just behind Akira. His voice came so suddenly and from so close by that Akira almost jumped. “It’s tempting to watch.”

“Yeah,” Akira said, very focused on how he could feel Goro’s breath tickling his ear, but in the next second he moved away and Akira forced his attention back where it was supposed to be.

The two of them wandered over to the area in front of the man who was working, where a few other people who hadn’t been visible from outside were watching as well. Taking from the fact that one of them had her phone out and was recording the process, Akira judged that it was okay to take pictures.

Expression intent, the glassblower strategically turned the red-hot glass at the end of his rod against a sheet on his work table. After that, he retrieved a metal tool from the same table and used it to manipulate the glass. Right before their eyes, the angry, shapeless blob of molten glass began to gradually take on the outline of a vase. Akira pressed down on the shutter-button of his camera several times in a row, trying to make sense of the method.

“You’re very focused,” Goro said quietly. “As much as I’ve ever seen you be.”

“Well, with this, it’s like–” Akira struggled to find the words. “Something about the act, I guess, just makes me feel like I need to capture it, urgently.”

“No, I understand,” Goro said, and when Akira turned to him he was surprised to see that instead of the furrowed brow and tight frown he usually wore when he was concentrating, Goro’s face had been overtaken by the faraway look that Akira could only remember seeing on him a few times before. “It’s beautiful because we aren’t inclined to believe that such a delicate process could result in the creation of something so solid and lasting. We fear it could lose its shape or even break at any second, so it draws our eyes.”

“That’s it,” Akira said, a little surprised. “Yeah, that’s exactly it.”

They looked at each other. After a moment, Goro broke the stare and turned his eyes away. “Didn’t think I’d be capable of making profound observations?”

Akira smirked. “Maybe. I guess I still have a lot to learn about you.”

“I suppose you do,” Goro said.

They spent some time browsing in the shop connected to the studio, examining the glass wares, the rows of shelves and tables lined with carefully arranged vases and cups and ornaments, multicolored and eye-catching. Akira ended up buying a few things for some people from work– if he could keep the trinkets from breaking long enough to give them, they’d make great gifts.

He made his purchase with the shopkeeper, and she carefully wrapped them for him in paper before placing them in a bag. After taking it from her he looked across the shop at Goro and caught his eye. Goro gestured towards the door, and Akira nodded.

They left the shop, and Akira pulled out his camera to go through the photos he’d taken. He noticed Goro trying to look closer out of the corner of his eye and moved to make it easier for him to see. They went through pictures of the glassblowing and others from that day, Goro occasionally making murmured comments that Akira reacted to with quiet affirmation. There was one photo that went unseen, though– Akira made sure to skip over the picture of Goro from earlier. Somehow, the thought of showing it to him felt strange.

After Akira put his camera away, the two of them continued walking the cobbled streets in aimless silence. At any time Akira expected Goro to pull out a phone and show him some highly-rated travel website list of the top ten things to do in Murano, but he seemed instead to be willing to go with the flow. Directionless was a good look on him– it was nice to see Goro act less like everything he did had been perfectly choreographed. And Akira would rather they take things at an easy pace than play-act as some wealthy couple on vacation or something.

Their discussion from before seemed to have fizzled out, but Akira decided he was going to see this through. If they were doing the whole honest conversation thing, then he wanted to go all the way.

“About before,” Akira said, and Goro sighed like he’d known this was coming.

Akira ignored it. “Listen, I did want to know more about you back then, okay? I don’t think it was unreasonable of me to want that. I mean, I was your boyfriend. You’re supposed to tell the person you’re dating things. I knew– I knew that with everyone else you were– careful, but I guess I thought it was different with me until I realized it wasn’t. And that was, you know, hurtful.” The words came out in a sort of rush, and Akira had to stop to collect his thoughts.

Goro was frowning. “I thought… You weren’t incorrect, Akira. It _was_ different with you. It was always different with you.”

Akira wasn’t sure how he felt about that, or what he should say in response, but before he could reply Goro said abruptly. “You know what– fine, then. Pick your poison.”

“...Clarify?”

“You won’t fool me with past tense; I know you’re still interested in unraveling this mystery of me you’ve created in your mind.” His voice was tight with barely-concealed irritation. “Just say the word and I’ll walk you through my history. I suppose you’ll want the usual aspects of it all. Childhood, family– perhaps I could detail any formative youthful experiences?”

“Okay, don’t–”

“I mean it, Akira!” The bitterly sarcastic tone of his voice made Akira cringe a little. “I’m available to answer any inquiries you may–”

“Stop. Okay? Stop, Goro,” Akira demanded, and Goro fell silent.

Akira took a breath. "I know it’s not my right, okay? We aren’t dating anymore. I don’t get to– I’m not going to bother you about anything like that now."

Goro didn’t reply. It seemed as if he was through with conversation for the time being. Akira held back a sigh. _One step forwards, two steps back._

It was getting to be late in the afternoon now, the blue of the sky beginning to bleed into shades of muted orange and purple. They came upon an area without many people and a bench facing the water, painted a bright blue and surrounded on both sides by flowers. Without saying anything to Akira, Goro sat down. Akira rolled his eyes and took a seat beside him. There was a fairly large gap of space left between them.

“Can I just say one thing?” Akira said after they’d sat there quietly for a few minutes, gazing at the water.

“If you must.”

Akira was silent for a moment, trying to find the best way to speak up. Finally, he ventured, “Once, you told me about your mother.”

It wasn’t obvious, but Akira could tell that Goro had stiffened, just slightly. Akira took a breath before continuing. “It was during my third year, your fourth. I remember it because you never used to talk about that stuff with me. I was using film for that one project, the one where I took pictures of found objects.” The memory came to him slowly but with clarity, like a developing photograph.  “You kept asking me questions about where they all came from, but I didn’t know the answers, so I started making things up, just for a laugh. I remember I said stuff like...” He laughed a little. “I said an old shoe used to belong to–”  

“A circus clown,” Goro said. The faraway look from earlier had made a reappearance.

“Yeah. God. A circus clown who chucked it after he entered the business, because he didn’t need non-clown shoes anymore. Oh, and that broken toy car, remember? I made a big thing about how a shrunken-down garden gnome tried to learn to drive and totalled it. Just stupid little made-up histories like that. And after I’d done that for a few of them, you… said that I reminded you of her. Your mom.”

He remembered being flattered, not because he’d known anything about Goro’s mother before then, but because the way Goro spoke about her, the added gravity of his words, the careful tenderness in his voice, made him realize that this was not a comparison he made lightly. “You said we were both good storytellers.  You talked about how when you were upset as a kid, whenever you cried or made a fuss, she would calm you down by telling you things that she just made up on the spot, long stories about whatever things or people she saw. Like… she’d point to a person walking by and tell you all about how they were a long-lost princess, or someone who’d had a spell put on them by a sorcerer. You said that… that she was always trying to make something from nothing.”

Goro didn’t speak for a moment. When he did, his voice was low. “You remember all of that?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I do. You know, I remember thinking you sounded so… different. Kind of–” But even as he tried to put it into words, Akira was aware he wouldn’t be able to voice exactly what had made Goro sound so new. He could still remember hearing it, a kind of indecipherable quality in his voice– something strangely contradictory, a sorrow that made him seem at once so much older and yet younger with childish need, a grief that seemed so raw and real that it was almost otherworldly, a grief that Akira knew he couldn’t even begin to imagine. "I don’t know. Just different, I guess. It was almost like another person was talking. And even though you didn’t say much beyond that, I was thinking about how lucky I was, to get to hear that. I wanted– I wanted to hear you talk about those things again, because it was like you were showing me a whole new part of yourself.”

Goro wasn’t looking at him; his eyes were still on the water. He was silent for a long moment, and Akira held his breath.

When he spoke his voice was curt. “Akira, I wish I could make you understand. I wasn’t interested in feeding you woeful tales of my youth. I thought you deserved better.”

Akira blinked. _Deserved better?_

Now that made absolutely no sense. “What is that supposed to mean?”

And just like that, Goro was on the defensive. “What?”

“What do you mean, I _deserved better?_ You didn’t think I would be interested in knowing more about you? Were you trying to spare me from something? Because I don’t need protecting, Goro,” Akira said, voice rising.

Goro’s jaw clenched as he sharply turned away. “Again, I don’t expect you to understand.”

“Obviously I’m not going to understand anything if you won’t explain it to me!”

Goro whipped around to face him. “You’re–” But then he faltered, looking over Akira’s shoulder.

When Akira turned to see what he was looking at, his eyes fell on a woman passing by. She was clearly glaring in their direction. When Akira’s eyes met hers she said nothing, but only looked at him, unimpressed, before shaking her head and continuing on her way.

Goro sighed, that long-suffering sound Akira was growing more and more familiar with. “Perhaps we should lower our voices.”

“Perhaps,” Akira muttered. As if on cue, his stomach suddenly rumbled. _Oops._

Goro glared at him. Akira coughed.

“You’re hungry, aren’t you,” Goro said flatly.

Akira rubbed the back of his head. “Well…”

Goro stood up. “It’s been a while since breakfast. We might as well find someplace to have lunch.”

“Oh.” Akira rose as well. “Well, okay.”

* * *

Just after the first semester of Akira’s third year began, he and Goro took a trip.

It would take around two hours by train to arrive at their destination. Goro leaned his head against the window, his eyes shut. Akira nudged his foot with his own from across the aisle. “Don’t fall asleep.”

“Mm.” Goro’s eyes opened. “You’re still intent on keeping me awake?”

“Yup. Somebody has to entertain me.” Akira leaned over and opened the backpack underneath his seat, pulling out a can of soda. “Look, got you your favorite!” He waved it tantalizingly in the air in front of him.

Goro eyed it with evident longing before giving in and taking it from his hands. “Fine.” He popped open the can. “I’ll allow myself to be bribed.”

Slowly the view outside the window changed. The landmarks of the city blurred past and were gradually replaced by fields, rolling hills and buildings much closer to the ground. Akira tensed slightly. It was always a little strange to leave Tokyo. When he was away from the city again, he always felt as if he had an excess of energy and nothing to put it towards.

When they arrived, they got off the train and stood there in the station, blinking and stretching.

“All right,” Akira said. “So what’s there to see in Nikko, again?”

“Shrines, shrines, and more shrines,” Goro replied, examining something on his phone. “But I’m more inclined to explore the natural beauty of this place. There are a number of scenic trails here through the mountains.” He locked his phone and decisively placed it in his pocket. “I’d also like to visit the botanical gardens. My natural science professor spent quite some time researching one of the plant species that can be found there.”

“Oh, cool. Yeah, sounds good to me.” Akira hefted his backpack up, and they began the process of figuring out which was the right bus to get on.

They eventually did find their way to the gardens. After they paid the entrance fee, Akira followed Goro around and let him tell him all about just how his professor’s work had contributed to a new understanding of the nature of mountain plants. It wasn’t the most thrilling stuff, but he was content to listen to Goro’s voice, and it was pleasant to be outside in the nice weather and among the flowers and trees. Akira was just beginning to enjoy himself when they both heard it– a voice calling “Akechi? Hey, Akechi!”

He and Goro both turned in the direction of the sound. A group of girls was standing far enough away so that they all seemed to coalesce into one amorphous blob. As they watched, one of them separated from the clump and began walking in their direction.

“I thought it was you!” the girl said when she was close enough so they could see her face. She and Goro exchanged greetings and he made introductions; Akira found he was always acutely pleased to hear Goro smoothly refer to Akira as _my boyfriend,_ no matter how many times he heard it. Though he picked up on the fact that she went to school with them, Akira admittedly forgot the girl’s name right after Goro said it, but it didn’t seem to matter; she barely even glanced in his direction in favor of speaking to Goro instead.

“It’s such a coincidence to see you here,” Goro said. “Are you visiting with friends?”

“Yeah, a few of us decided to make the trip for fun. Check out the quaint country sights, y’know.” She stretched her arms above her head. “And of course I’m here because of Professor Mori, too. I thought I’d scope this place out, since he talks about the different species that grow here all the time– and between you and me, I think I’m a shoo-in for that internship with him.”

“Oh?” Akira suddenly noticed that something in Goro’s posture had changed. It was only a subtle shift, and it was hard to tell exactly how it affected his demeanor, but he almost looked… combative. “I thought he wasn’t going to make the decision for another month.”

“Yeah, well, that’s what he _says,_  but…” She grinned, cocky. “I stopped by his office hours the other day, and he all but confirmed I’d be his choice. Plus I could always kinda tell I was one of his favorites. So it’s not official yet, but I think I’ve got it in the bag.”

“I see,” Goro said slowly. “That’s wonderful.”

“That’s why you’re here too, right?” She tilted her head. “I know you were vying for it, but the last time a non-major got accepted to work with him was… wow, I can’t even remember. Besides, you’d probably be bored, right? Not like plants are very exciting for you non-science people.” She laughed.

“Actually,” Goro said mildly, “I’d taken an interest in his work with alpine specimens. His research on the matter was very well-organized. But you’re right– I suppose I never had much of a chance.”

“Hey, don’t be so down,” the girl replied, sweeping her hair back behind her shoulder. “I’m sure you’ll find something else!”

“...Yes, I’m sure,” Goro said, after a pause. He gave her a smile. “Good luck, then. I hope you get good news.”

“Thanks!”

Behind them, one of the girls from the clump called something. The girl turned her head and yelled a reply before smiling brightly at Goro again. “I should be getting back to my friends. See you around, yeah? Enjoy your trip!”

They thanked her, and after a few minutes, she’d moved out of sight with her group.

Akira sneaked a glance at Goro. He had a strange, unfamiliar expression on his face, a look that seemed devoid of all warmth.

“Hey,” Akira said.

Goro turned to him, and though his face was more neutral he still had that unpleasant look in his eyes– something that seemed a little alien, something that Akira wasn’t sure he was very fond of. “Yes?”

“Sorry about that,” Akira said cautiously. Was he imagining things? Still, there was no denying that this side of Goro was one he couldn’t recall seeing before. “She was kind of being awful.”

“...Did you think so? I wasn’t bothered. Nothing she said was untrue. And I’ve known her to be very talented in her field of study. I imagine she was right about being Mori’s preferred choice.” Goro’s voice was neutral, but his demeanor seemed tense, like he was a string being pulled taut in two directions.

“If you’re upset about it, it’s okay to say so, you know,” Akira said.

Annoyingly, Goro only gave him the same smile he’d given the girl– the one that seemed to lack anything behind it. “I assure you I’m not upset, Akira. But I think we’ve been here long enough.” He retrieved his phone from his pocket. “There’s still time to see some of the other sighs before our train home. Shall we leave?”

“...Sure,” Akira said finally, and followed him. 

* * *

They didn’t speak again until they’d found a restaurant and taken their seats opposite each other at a table. As their waiter approached, Goro said “You know, there’s something you’re misunderstanding about all of this.”

He didn’t get a chance to elaborate further for a few more minutes as they placed their orders. Goro asked for a salad. Akira decided on fish. They both drank water.

“So,” Akira prodded as the waiter left, “something I’m misunderstanding?”

“Yes.” Just from hearing that word, Akira could tell that the Goro of college days, the one who knew all the answers in class and didn’t hesitate to let you know, was alive and well. “You’re implying that our relationship ended because I was withdrawn, that I was secretive, that because I refrained from giving you tragic details of my past, you were never able to fully relate to me, and so things fell inevitably apart. Is that it?”

“I– well–” Something had changed. Goro didn’t sound angry anymore, just a little dry and matter-of-fact. It was hard to find a way to respond when he was calm and assured like this.

“Akira,” Goro continued, his voice almost gentle. “I’ve been thinking about this for the past few days. Back then, the way you saw me– do you think it was entirely accurate?”

“I don’t know,” Akira mumbled. “I guess I’m trying to figure out whether or not I really knew you.” But even as he said it, he knew it was bullshit, because if he hadn’t known Goro so well there was no way he would have fallen for him as hard as he did.

Goro, not missing a thing, gave him a look. “You did know me,” he said. “That isn’t what I was getting at. I meant that sometimes, the fact that you knew me so well was the problem, because–”

“Goro, look, I–”

“–you didn’t always like what you saw. Don’t deny it,” he said, cutting off Akira’s attempt to interrupt again. “I was a mystery, and I’m sure you wanted to know more about me because you were genuinely interested. But the thing about mysteries is after you solve them, the novelty wears off.”

_Point._

The waiter brought their meals over, and even as Akira poked at his food he could feel a frown forming on his own face.

“Don’t sulk,” Goro instructed.

“I’m not sulking,” Akira muttered. “I’m just not used to having… frank conversations like this. But when I talk to you, if I try to be anything other than completely truthful, things just seem to fall apart.”

Goro made a _ha!_ sound, not quite a laugh but something close to one. “I wonder what that means.”  

“It means you’re the only one my charm doesn’t work on,” Akira said, cutting his eyes at him.

Goro rolled his eyes. “Eat your fish.”

He ate his fish. Or he did, until he felt his discontent starting to boil over. “No,” Akira declared.

“No?” Goro echoed.

“No,” Akira confirmed. “I respectfully disagree with the last thing you said.”

Goro sat back in his chair, a challenge in his eyes. “Elaborate.”

Akira took a breath. “I don’t know, maybe there was a problem because I wasn’t… prepared. To understand the real you, I mean. Maybe I _was_ holding on to an ideal image of Goro that I saw in my mind– yeah, I think that part of what you said isn’t entirely wrong. But I resent the implication that I just thought of you as something to be figured out and... moved on from. I don’t know if you feel that I did act that way, or if you’re just hypothesizing, and if you do we can talk about it, because I would never have wanted you to feel like that because of me– but I didn’t see our relationship like that at all.”

Goro blinked. “Well, then.”  

 _Counterpoint._ Akira demurely sipped at his water.

After they agreed on sharing a slice of cheesecake for dessert, Goro said casually, “I hope you understand my intention isn’t to paint you as some amoral, detached fiend. But weren’t your efforts to get close to me also so you could feel good about _yourself_? So you could feel proud, knowing you had the privilege of being in my confidence?”

_Point._

“That’s–” Akira was all set to argue, but Goro’s composed manner was still throwing him off, and he ended up deflating a little. “When you put it that way, I sound like an asshole.”

“Hm,” Goro replied, a noise that hopefully didn’t mean _if the shoe fits._

“But, I mean– I wanted to be there for you because I cared about you. You just seem like you’re trying to twist it into something malicious.”

“That isn’t my intention at all. I simply wonder– didn’t you also want me to rely on you? And didn’t the lines between your goodwill and that feeling of self-satisfaction blur?”

Akira’s first instinct was to argue, but he felt he wouldn’t be able to get the words out in good conscience. The fact of the matter was that there was a kernel of truth in Goro’s words–  but instead of thinking about that, Akira found himself dwelling on how Goro’s skill at debate had somehow evolved enough for him to be able to turn emotions into bullet points for his arguments, memories into steel-edged refutations. It was just another way that the boy striving to prove himself had become a man who’d grown into his own talents. Again, Akira felt that sensation of strange urgency to catch up with all he’d missed in the years they hadn’t spoken.

But right at that moment, he had things to say.

“Well, you’re right– I did want you to rely on me. But you’re saying that feeling came from a mostly selfish desire, and I can’t agree with that. I wanted to be there for you, and yeah, I knew I’d be uniquely privileged, because I could see you didn’t confide in anyone else. And I won’t lie– that made me feel… special, I guess. Yeah, I felt good about it. But it wasn’t so I could feel better about myself for being the one you chose, or feel superior about being the person who helped you. I just… wanted to. Because I liked you, Goro.” It was the truth, so he felt assured in saying it. “I liked you a lot, and I wanted you to be happy and comfortable with me.”

 _And counterpoint._ He couldn’t resist flashing his best puppy-dog eyes at that last part.

Goro drew himself up, taking a breath as if to respond– but then he ended up closing his mouth before muttering “Hmph.”

“Anyway,” Akira said, after they’d split the check and left the restaurant, “I’m glad we can talk about this, because a lot of the time I feel like you’re trying to undermine me during conversation.”

They stepped onto a bridge leading across the channel. “How so?”

Akira’s easy pace should have put him behind Goro with his brisk walk, but somehow they were almost shoulder to shoulder. “You kinda act like I’m beyond understanding. You even did it when we were dating, a little bit. And I’m starting to think you only talk like that when you don’t want to say how you actually feel.”

_Point, from my side this time._

“That’s… hm.” Goro sounded thoughtful. “Well, my patience for slow-wittedness has never been high, it’s true.”

"Wow, really? Totally hadn’t noticed."

They got off the bridge, ground beneath their feet changing from wooden board to smooth stone. Goro turned his gaze heavenward, deep red eyes focused on the sky that was already darkening, despite the late hour the sun was meant to set that evening.

“You know,” Goro said, “I’m aware of my flaws. And I suppose it’s true that I can sometimes assume a superior attitude to avoid having to divulge my honest thoughts. When I was with you, however, I thought that I was learning to… be genuine. I was confident that I was improving, in that regard. I understand now– and probably did back then, though I didn’t want to admit it– that you never saw it that way.”

Akira stayed silent.

“For some years,” Goro continued, “I’ve been attempting to be more honest with myself. After substantial effort, I think I can clearly say that I now understand who I am. But maybe…” He trailed off, tried again. “Maybe I never did learn to be open with others. Perhaps it simply isn’t in my nature to be truthful about these things. I do seem to be better at deflecting.” He stiffened, seeming to realize he’d said too much, and coughed. “I only mean that it can be– especially difficult, for me.”

... _Counterpoint._ But it was a rebuttal that seemed less mired in just the spirit of the argument than it was in what seemed like a genuine willingness on Goro’s part to bare a little more of his soul.

Akira could appreciate that.

He considered before speaking up. “I think you should give yourself some credit. I mean, you’re talking to me now, aren’t you? And I think you’re being pretty genuine. Sure, you can be condescending–”

“Ha.”

“ –but I can tell you’re trying, and that’s what counts. So… that means you have learned to be more honest. The proof is in the conversation we’re having right now.”

“...I don’t need you to humor me,” Goro muttered, but there was no bite in his words, and after a moment of hesitation he added “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Akira said, smiling. The mood felt a little lighter, and Goro looked less… frowny.

“Kinda nostalgic to argue like this again,” Akira added. “Remember how I used to crush it in our old debates?”

“I don’t seem to recall you being much of a challenge,” Goro said loftily.

“Aw, don’t lie. I gave you a run for your money.” Those discussions he’d had with Goro, with topics covering anything and everything of interest to either of them, had always been spontaneous and occasionally alcohol-fueled, but Akira was sure he’d managed to hold his own. Most of the time.

“Ha. Well, when it came to culture or politics– things you actually cared about– you would always come alive, with some idea from a perspective I’d never considered. Always impossible-sounding, too, but you’d somehow wear me down enough to where the ludicrous began to seem reasonable.”

“That is one of my many talents,” Akira agreed.

“It was during those times,” Goro said thoughtfully, “that I really began to understand how passionate you were.”

“Aw, you couldn’t tell that from the beginning?”

“Not at all. When we were just beginning to get acquainted, in fact, I thought you were rather daft.”

“Hey, what the hell?!”

Despite the blow to his ego, it was nice to hear Goro laugh.

* * *

“They’re good, aren’t they?” Akira said. He was trying not to brag, but he could hear the pride in his own voice.

Goro’s eyes were wide. “I didn’t even notice you taking these. How did you…?”

“Pure stealth. I’d be so good at espionage. Or as a private investigator.” Akira beamed.

“I suppose I should be grateful you don’t use your powers for evil.” Goro leaned over and kissed his cheek before leaning his head on Akira’s shoulder, still shuffling through the photos he was holding in his hands. “But you know, about these– I might add that you’d do well to diversify your subject matter.”

Akira hadn’t really intended to create a photo series. But the fact of the matter was that he took a lot of pictures of Goro. And how could he not?

He’d taken the photography class because he’d wanted to see if he could turn his penchant for taking pictures with his smartphone into something more. And two weeks into it, he’d gone out and bought a real, proper camera. Holding it for the first time, the weight of it in his hands felt comfortable– and made him feel somehow powerful in a way he’d never really experienced before.

From there it was a short leap to photographing whatever caught his eye. Nature appealed to him the most, but that was hard to find in the city. He’d had fun for a while taking pictures of the cats at the shelter, but they all habitually tended to shy away from the camera. And of course, there was Goro, who was already objectively good-looking enough to draw the eyes of everyone on campus. But it was more than that– it was the way he made Akira’s heart seize up when he smiled, the way his voice was becoming Akira’s favorite sound, the way his touch always had Akira feeling calmer, more serene. Because that was the thing, Akira had already realized. The more he felt about something, the more he wanted to capture it.

So he had. He had a photo of Goro poring over his books, his eyes alight with focus. He had a photo of him just before sleeping, his eyes half-closed and his hands folded on his chest. He had so many photos of Goro, and when he was lucky enough he’d caught him in just the right moments– solitary in a way that made the viewer feel like they were looking in on a moment from another reality.

“Nah,” Akira said. “I don’t think I have enough of you yet, actually.”

“You’re embarrassing,” Goro muttered, but he smiled. “They’re very well-composed pictures, Akira. And I agree that this is something you should pursue. But about what you mentioned earlier…” He hesitated.

“The competition,” Akira said. “Look, if you don’t want me to then I don’t have to submit anything, seriously. It wasn’t even my idea, my professor just though I might have a good shot with these– but it’s whatever, honestly.”

“...I’m sorry. I want you to– do well. But these are–” Goro paused for a long moment. Then he began to speak again, slowly.  “Sometimes I just– do you ever look at yourself and…” He closed his eyes. “Do you ever find it hard to see yourself for… yourself? Not from the points of view of others?”

“I mean… kind of,” Akira said. He shifted so he could look at Goro more closely. “What do you mean?”

Goro paused. “It’s– as if whenever I look at one of these photographs, I’m seeing them with… a thousand eyes. And the harder I look, the more distorted it all becomes.”

Akira started to reply, but something stopped him. Goro seemed lost in reverie, his eyes still on the photographs in his hands.

“A thousand eyes,” Goro murmured. He ran his finger along the edge of one of the photos. “I sometimes feel as if those eyes are voices, too, clamoring inside my head with– censures, or judgments, or denials. But when I try to think about who I am without them, when I attempt to examine myself on my own terms, then… I can no longer see anything. As if there’s only an outline where I’m supposed to be.”

Akira waited a moment. He didn’t really understand what Goro had meant, but he knew what to say. “Goro, I don’t have to show these to anyone else.”

Goro blinked at him. “I– yes. That would be… I mean, they’re beautiful, they really are, but–”

“Hey,” Akira said gently. He took Goro’s hand in his own and squeezed. “It’s okay. Seriously.”

For a moment, Goro looked at him, a little surprised, saying nothing. Then he sighed, smiled a little and replied “Thank you.” 

* * *

He and Goro spent a little more time surveying Murano. They were fully prepared to explore, so they soon found that the island had a lot to offer for those willing to look: a small, tucked-away church displaying walls lined with regal paintings, a leaning bell tower next to a garden that seemed like it had lain undisturbed for years, and a variety of little shops with tempting windows displaying their wares.

“Don’t have this much fun back at the office, huh?” Akira asked, grinning at Goro, as they came out of one of the latter. Exploring had put him in an especially good mood.

Goro rolled his eyes. “Thank you for your concern, but I enjoy my work.”

“Do you?”

“Very much.”

They passed a few more shops, windows seeming all the brighter as the light of day faded.

“Well, that’s good,” Akira said. “But I have to say– being a defense attorney seems like… a strange choice.”

Goro raised an eyebrow. “Because you think it’s not as lucrative, I assume?”

“Kind of, yeah. But mostly because your major was criminal justice. I mean, what gives?”

“...I had a change of heart, for a variety of reasons, but mostly because of Sae’s influence. In lieu of graduate school, I accepted an intensive internship working under her at the public prosecutor’s office. It was a decision I didn’t make lightly, but I learned a lot there.”

“Like what?” Akira prodded.

“Like I didn’t want to be a prosecutor.” Goro smirked. “I was often less than impressed by the trappings of such a career– police incompetence, bureaucratic red tape… But I found that I could still utilize my skills and explore my passion for the law from the other side of the courtroom. Funnily enough, Makoto had the same idea, so even though Sae was a little bemused at our choices, she mentored us as we rose through our careers and eventually began work at the same firm.”

“Wow. That’s pretty unconventional.”

“I know– I’m just full of surprises.”

Akira pondered this for a moment, then piped up with “Hey.”

“What is it?”

“Let’s play a question game.”

Goro wrinkled his nose. “You’re not serious.”

“I am! I wouldn’t have known what you just told me if I hadn’t asked, right? So let’s say this: we each get to ask the other person ten questions about our lives as they are right now.”

“Well…” Goro said dubiously.

“Come on,” Akira wheedled. “I won’t ask you anything weird. Or invasive. Promise.”

Goro gave in. “All right.”

So they played a question game.

Akira started with softball questions, careful to not go too far, to only toe at the line, and gradually, he was rewarded for his efforts. Little by little, a clearer picture emerged of Goro Akechi’s life. He learned that Goro biked to work on odd days, and he always got coffee from the same place during his commute. He learned that his favorite movie that had come out recently was that highly-rated thriller from all the commercials. He learned that he’d started keeping plants around the office and his apartment. He learned that he’d been trying to read more and find books based on his own tastes, not those preferred by all the literary review journals.

As much as he learned, Akira also shared: how despite everywhere he’d been, his favorite city was still Tokyo, how he tried to listen to the local music from every place he went, how he did get homesick, but usually solved that problem with a quick call home, how he’d been trying to keep a journal but was awful at it, how he was in the process of getting one of his coworkers to teach him how to properly apply make-up, how his favorite photos he’d taken were all of people he loved.

It felt immensely satisfying– not just finally sating that desire to know more about Goro that had been bothering him for the past few days, but also to know that Goro cared enough about Akira’s own life to at least ask about it.

When they’d each used up their allotted ten queries, Akira took a breath.“Thanks.”

“For what?” Goro replied.

“For giving me the chance to get to know you again. I’m glad.”

Goro blinked quickly before looking away. “Well, you’re welcome.”

Akira smiled.

“Anyway,” Goro said, checking his watch, “do you think it’s time we head back?”

“Yeah, fine with me.” Akira stretched. The sun was setting, and he suddenly realized he hadn’t seen his friends all day. Ann and the rest were definitely occupied, but he didn’t think Ryuji would be thrilled about his choice to spend all day with Goro. He felt a little pang of guilt, but brushed it off. There’d be time to hang out with him later.

He and Goro headed over to the closest water-bus stop– a short walk, since everything was close by on the small island. When they got there, though, they ran into a small problem.

“How can the lines not be running?” Goro said sharply, frowning at Akira like it was his fault.

“How should I know?” Akira protested. “Anyway, there has to be another way to get back to the hotel.”

“We could call a water taxi.”

A quick call to the water taxi company put that idea on hold.

"An hour’s wait,” Akira told Goro, grimacing as he pressed the end-call button.

Goro pinched the bridge of his nose. “This is ridiculous. I have half a mind to complain to the–”

As Goro went on about how much of an inconvenience this was and why didn’t Akira check the schedules and blah blah, Akira’s attention waned. He looked around the dock.

Almost immediately, he saw something that gave him pause– and an idea he hadn’t yet considered… for obvious reasons. But the more he thought about it, the more it made sense.

Plus, it would be funny as hell.

Akira smiled widely.

“What are you grinning about?” Goro said.

He looked over to where Akira’s attention was focused. And then Akira could tell exactly what Goro was thinking, because his eyes widened just slightly before he lifted his chin and assumed an expression of polite outrage. “Absolutely not.”

“Oh, come on,” said Akira.

“No.”

“C’ _mon_.”

“ _No._ Akira, I am not going on a– a _gondola ride_ with you!”

In all fairness, Akira didn’t think it was that big of a deal. The few gondolas that were lined up in their own special area by the dock looked perfectly safe, practical, even, and if there was a perfectly valid mode of transportation right in front of them, they would be stupid not to use it, right?

“Much less one marketed specifically towards couples!”

Okay, so maybe the posted sign next to the boats said as much, but still.

“Yeah, yeah. Look, just ignore that. Besides, there’s nothing wrong with a gondola. It’s efficient, it’s scenic, it’s–” Akira squinted at the price written on the board– “well, slightly cheaper than I expected, I guess–”

“ _Akira–”_

“And it’s _right here_ and our only realistic option right now–”

“We could swim,” Goro suggested, a note of desperation entering his voice.

“Sure,” Akira deadpanned. “Swim back to Venice.”

Goro’s left eye seemed to twitch. “I cannot believe I’m in this position.”

“Take your time,” Akira said pleasantly.

Goro rubbed his temples, not speaking for a moment. Then he dropped his hands, and Akira saw his face run through all the stages of grief before he finally said, defeated, “Fine.”

Akira beamed.

“But _you_ are paying for this in full,” Goro added.

“You’re really working to prove you’re not a cheap date, huh?” Akira said.

Goro ignored him.

After Akira successfully convinced Goro to be realistic and split the price with him and they made sure one of the available gondoliers could take them to their Venice address, they were all set to go.

“I cannot believe this is happening,” Goro muttered as Akira helped him into the gondola.

“Careful,” the gondolier said in English, chuckling good-naturedly.

“Of course,” Akira replied to him brightly. “I’d have to be careful with my lover. My LOVER,” he added for emphasis as Goro wrenched his hand away and seated himself on the boat.

“I’m going to dismember you,” Goro said, looking up at Akira with a tender smile on his face.

“Not really into that, but I’m sure we could work something out.” Akira took a seat beside him on one of the two attached chairs that faced away from the gondolier. It really did all feel very ostentatious, not least because of the plush cushions on the seats. They were sitting so closely to each other that their shoulders bumped when Akira turned his head. Goro was very pointedly looking away from him, face twisted into that weird dignified pout he did. The boat hadn’t even started to move yet, and Akira was already having a great time.

A minute later, the gondolier began to move his paddle in even, slow strokes. There were a few seconds of stillness in the water, but before long they were on their way at a steady pace. Being right there in the channel, looking up at the buildings looming above them and passing by the boats docked along the side, gave Akira a whole new view of the city. He was almost tempted to reach out and skim his fingers along the water.

Instead, he turned around and addressed the gondolier in English. “Do you sing? Can we hear your most romantic song?”

“Stop talking,” Goro advised.

Akira leaned closer to him. “Are you embarrassed?”

“Also, stop enjoying this,” Goro muttered, massaging his temples.

“You are,” Akira said, grinning broadly. “You’re _so_ embarrassed.”

“I– it’s–” To Akira’s glee, Goro’s face was slowly turning red. “This is not how I–” He gave up and simply huffed before turning his face away. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Yeah, that’s–” Akira began, and stopped short. He’d been about to say _that’s why you love me_ , just a stupid old stock response he’d used in the past whenever Goro had gotten exasperated with his jokes. It was something that would probably be inappropriate to say now. For a variety of reasons.

It had suddenly become all too easy to replicate their past back-and-forth. Akira decided not to dwell on this and settled on replying with “Thanks, I try.”

Goro only shook his head, looking out at the water. “Can’t this go any faster?”

“Well, it’s not really about speed with these things. You’re supposed to be enjoying the journey.” Akira gave him a dazzling smile. “And the view.”

Goro looked unimpressed. “I hope you aren’t implying you’re the view.”

“C’mon, am I really the worst person to be in a gondola with?” Akira batted his eyelashes. “This has such a great vibe, you know. Super romantic. It’s just past sunset, there’s all these pretty lights, this guy could sing if you would just let me ask him–”  

“Very funny. You know, if someone had told me last week that I’d spend one of my evenings here in a gondola with Akira Kurusu,” Goro reflected, “I might have split my side laughing.”

Akira thought it was more likely that Goro would give that hypothetical messenger the world’s most passive-aggressive verbal beatdown before leaving to plot some kind of overly-detailed scheme that would end in Akira’s mysterious death in Italy.

For Akira’s part, if anyone had informed him of the same about Goro, he would immediately have either a conniption or an early midlife crisis.

“Hey,” Akira said after a moment, “you know what I realized today?”

“Enlighten me,” Goro replied.

“Well, up until now, when I thought about us, in my head I was just kind of framing why we broke up as… your fault, I guess. That was just my default reaction. But now I’m realizing that I definitely had a role in the whole thing too, even if I didn’t really see that at the time.”

Goro made a noise of assent.

Akira hesitated. “And again, I should say that I’m sorry for… feeling like I was entitled to information about you.”

Goro only nodded slightly. He seemed to be thinking hard about something.

Undeterred, Akira continued. “Maybe we were meant to meet each other again like this, you know? So we could talk it out.”

“Maybe so,” Goro mused after a pause, leaning back in his seat. “I’ll admit that though I was opposed to rehashing the past at first, today has been surprisingly… cathartic.”

Akira smiled. “I’m glad you think so too. So… no more hard feelings?”

Goro hesitated, his shoulders tensing. Akira fought the urge to look away. Finally, Goro replied “Yes. I agree. No more hard feelings.”

They smiled at each other tentatively, then both laughed, a little awkward, a little relieved.

After another moment passed, and Akira felt himself relax a little more, Goro said carefully, “Akira, I’ve made a decision.”

Akira raised his eyebrows. “Shoot?”

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to say something, in the continued interest of being honest.”

“Oh,” Akira said, sitting up a little straighter. Something in Goro’s voice had sounded firm and decisive, a sign Akira should pay close attention. “Of course, go ahead.”

“I believe have things to apologize for. But as I’ve said, speaking truthfully doesn’t seem to come naturally for me. I feel that I should just– talk, come what may. Would that be all right?” He gave him a wan smile. “I might end up rambling. Would you care to listen regardless?”

 _Goro, rambling?_  “Definitely,” Akira replied immediately.

“Thank you.” He paused for a moment. They passed under a short bridge, the shadow it cast hiding Goro’s face for a moment before the gondola came out through the other side and Akira could see him clearly again.

“I suppose,” Goro began, “I’ll start with an admission. Throughout the course of our relationship, I could have been– I could have trusted you more.”

Akira stayed quiet.

“We were dating for two years, after all, and never did I tell you that my childhood was spent within the foster care system.”

“Goro,” Akira said slowly. “What…?”

Goro closed his eyes. “I’m telling you this now not to elicit your sympathy, or even to make up for the things I hid from you. I’m saying it because I would like you to understand how I saw you as I came to know you, and I believe that divulging that part of my past is necessary for this purpose.”

Akira bit his lip and nodded. “Go ahead.”

"What I most associate with those years at school,” Goro said, voice soft, “is the bitter feeling of– of unbelonging. I should say that… when my mother passed away I was barely older than an infant. From then on life was simply a struggle to prove myself. I soon discovered that winning that war, however, brought me no real satisfaction, no thrill of victory– only brief respite before the fight begin anew.” He sighed. “No one expected I would become much of anything. But as a child I read all that I could, and when I grew older I worked whatever job I could find, desperate for any experience I could get. So I climbed to the top of my class in high school, and studied furiously for my entrance exams, and eventually claimed my place at university. I should have felt like I could finally relax. But instead I became permanently anxious, detached totally from my peers, because I had so much more to prove than they did.

“Eventually I developed a strategy. When I thought it convenient, I would give hints as to the reality of my past. I'd embellish the whole thing, emphasizing the upward movement, the success story, and leaving out the–” Goro's face twisted and his eyes closed, and then he opened them again his face was one of resignation. "The bitter shame of it. The self-doubt. The struggle that almost– that almost threatened to break me, many times– no. I didn’t touch those parts at all. Instead, I carried out every part of my act perfectly. And it all worked out very well. Sympathy can be very useful, if acquired in just the right amounts. Everyone appreciates an underdog– someone who takes what life gives them and works without complaint. They all listened to what I chose to share… I’m talking about adults, of course. Those people who had all the power. Academic bureaucrats, professionals who had the connections I needed to make. The same ones who had made my childhood hell were all smiles after I’d shown them I could claw my way upwards without their help.”

Something in Goro’s voice was getting more distant and less emotional, like something inside him was detached from the words he was saying. “And you know something? The more I recited that story, the one I made sure to prettify for their consumption, the less it felt like all of that had really happened to me. It felt more and more like I was only playing a role.” He was looking away again; Akira couldn’t tell what expression he had on his face. “...But I digress.”

“For everyone else,” Goro continued, “that charade was enough. And then there was you, Akira.”

 _It was always different with you,_ Goro had told him.

“I wanted to tell you everything about me," Goro said with a wry laugh. "No, that isn't it. I only- I wanted you to already know, without my having to impart anything. You were a person I couldn’t fit into the view of life that I held and knew to be true. A confounding variable, of sorts, in the experiment that had been my experiences. You wanted more from me, and I couldn't understand it. First I was quietly thrilled by it, then I hated you for it. I thought you were uncannily clever, then I convinced myself you were just naive. I made hundreds of hypotheses, tortured myself relentlessly within my own mind. Baffling, isn’t it? You were right there the whole time.” He knotted his fingers together on his lap. “All I had to do was ask.”

 _Why didn’t you?_ Akira wanted to say. _I would have told you. I would have told you how much you meant to me, any time you wanted me to._ But he kept quiet and waited.

“When I had exhausted all possibilities and realized that you’d somehow come to care for me all by yourself, what I had to do became clear. I begin to think that I should not use you, the way I used everyone else. Earlier, when I said you deserved better, I meant that… that I thought you should not be subject to the same treatment as all the others. Those people in my way, the ones who professed feigned sympathy, those… unfeeling adults. They meant nothing to me. I thought I was smarter than them– no, I knew I was.” Something in his tone had hardened. “They only mattered to me as much as I could use them. None of them were like you, not a single one. So I decided I would treat you differently. I wanted you– I wanted you to see me without the lens of my past clouding your vision.”

Goro stopped and took a breath. "Do you remember when I said our relationship was formative? Without you, I would not have so soon realized that I didn't know who I was. I was only switching out masks for different people at different times." He turned to Akira and gave him a little smile. "That kind of person isn't somebody anyone deserves for a lover, wouldn't you agree?”

“Goro,” Akira said. “I…”

“...I certainly began to think so,” Goro continued. “So I began to shield myself from you, to… pull further away. I decided I would show you a new me. But it was impossible for me to reinvent myself when I wasn’t even sure of who I’d been for so long. I was only… wearing another mask. And I suppose that was the beginning of the end of it."

 _The beginning of the end._ There had been no singular, magic reason, Akira was realizing, for why their relationship had failed. It had ended quietly, on its last legs, not with a bang but with the final, weary whimper of something that had been stretched too far in ways it wasn’t made to be stretched. But there were ways both of them had let the other down. Of course he’d noticed it– how guarded Goro had become towards the end, how much harder it had been to get through to him. And when Akira had tried to come closer, he’d done so with the grace of a stampeding elephant, unable to navigate the labyrinth of Goro’s heart.

Goro’s voice brought him out of his brief reverie. "Despite all the missteps, at the end of it all, the fact remained that the person who I was when I was with you was somebody new. It was a mask, yes, but it was the face I felt most comfortable wearing. The closest to myself, whoever that might have been." He looked down at his hands, folded tightly on his lap. "A shame that I couldn't bring myself to look that face in the mirror.” He took a breath, and then looked at Akira with a level gaze. “All that notwithstanding… once again, I apologize. I only– I felt it important that you understand all of this. And I wanted to thank you, as well. For listening, and… for seeing me, back then. It meant– it still means a great deal. So.” Goro turned his face away and rubbed the back of his neck. “Thank you.”

“I…” Akira opened his mouth, closed it, and opened it again. “Goro–”  

Goro laughed a little, looking a lot less tense now that he’d said what he’d had to say. “I did say I might end up rambling. I don’t expect you to reply to all of that.”

“No, I should–” Akira tried to gather his thoughts. “Thank you, Goro. For telling me that, and trusting me enough to say it. That’s really… I’m really glad. Thanks.”

Goro smiled at him slightly, then remarked, “That was the most I’ve spoken about myself in some time.”

“...You are all right, aren’t you?”

Goro rolled his eyes at Akira. “I’m fine. Might need a Xanax,” he added under his breath.

“I know you said you don’t expect a reply,” Akira said, “but you’re getting one.”

“How did I know,” Goro said dryly.

Akira looked at Goro, really looked at him, before speaking. “I know it was only a few years ago that we were dating, considering, but I was kinda a dumb kid, still. And when I ask myself if I would have been able to– really understand you back then, even if I did know what I know now, I’m not sure I’d be able to. When I was growing up, I had the opportunity to make mistakes, to fuck up, and still have a whole lot of people who looked out for me anyway. And everyone deserves that– every kid. But you didn’t get it. I think– ” He hesitated, but pressed on. “I think that back then I might have been so focused on how fucked up and unfair it was that you didn’t get that that I wouldn’t have stopped to think about… how it affected you, if that makes sense. I got through those years by just… finding the right people to put my trust in, and doing that as wholeheartedly as I could. Not really the same experience for you, I guess.”

“Not quite.”

“Yeah. So… the way you thought and acted wouldn’t have made sense to me, I don’t think. Even if I knew everything about you. My point is that… I understand why you didn’t tell me those things about yourself, about your past. But like I said, I’m glad you did just now.” He smiled at him. “So one more time… thanks.”

Goro smiled back tentatively. “You’re very welcome.”

“And one more thing,” Akira added. He was becoming more aware of just how much all of it was getting to his head. The proximity, the carefully intimate way Goro had just spoken, all the revelations, the _gondola_ – it was all contributing to the creation of a strange buzzing energy inside him that made him feel like he had to keep talking. “Listen. What you said about me seeing you for who you were, without the filters, without the bullshit. I hope– God, if I’m overstepping my bounds here, sorry, but… all of today, I’ve seen you, what I think is the real you. And it’s… good. The real you is good. Sorry, I can’t– God. I can’t talk. Anyway.” He felt himself talking faster and took a breath to slow down. “I hope you know that it can take– a long time to find out who you are, and even longer to come to terms with who that person is. But I think you’re already much better at that then you were before, and you shouldn’t keep that self hidden away. You’re– a person that’s… I mean, you’re…”

“Good,” Goro supplied. A new smile was playing at his lips, one more gentle than Akira had seen on him this whole time.

“Good,” Akira repeated, and he gave a nervous laugh. “Yeah. So all I’m saying is… uh. I think people would be happy to see the real you. It’s… you’re worth seeing. And I mean that.” He ran a hand through his hair. “That’s all I have to say.”

“Well,” Goro said, now seemingly lost for words. He cleared his throat. “That’s… thank you. A little sentimental, but thank you.”

“Yeah, well… can’t help it.”

They looked at each other again. Goro seemed slightly anxious, as if on the verge of doing something he was unsure about, his shoulders hunched forward, his fingers drumming against his lap. He opened his mouth to say something.

And suddenly, their boat bumped lightly against a dock with a gentle roll of waves.

“Oh,” Goro said, looking back with surprise. “Have we returned?”

“I… guess we have,” Akira said, blinking. “With time to spare.”

He stood up in the boat, a little uneasily, and thanked the gondolier before climbing out. Standing there on the dock, Akira held out a hand, and Goro took it before doing the same.

“Thank you.”

“No problem.”

The walk from the dock to the hotel was short, and they spent it making quiet conversation, Goro occasionally even deigning to laugh at Akira’s little quips, Akira listening carefully to the tone of Goro’s voice and finding something new, a warmth that hadn’t been there before, some of the stiff formality eased away. When they got to the bridge before the hotel, Akira was slightly disappointed it was all over.

They stood there, just outside the entrance.

“So,” Akira said. His hands were in his pockets, stance casual, but he felt a strange tenseness within him. He was hyper-aware of Goro’s actions again, that little fixation he’d experienced ever since he first saw him in this place and hadn’t really been able to consciously detect until now. It had been a long time since he’d been this laser-focused on something, on _someone_. “Thanks for taking that ride with me.”

Goro rolled his eyes. “I can’t say it was my first choice of transportation, but…” He smiled slightly. “I did have good company. It was… nice.”

 _Nice._ Akira grinned. “That’s all I needed to hear.”

There was a short pause.

“Ceremony’s tomorrow,” Akira said.

“Yes,” Goro responded.

Akira kicked at some dirt at his feet, feeling awkward.

“I’m glad,” Goro said finally, “that we were able to talk today.” It could have sounded careful and formal, a pleasantry that didn’t mean anything, but that warmth was still in his voice and instead it came out genuine.

“I am too,” Akira said. “I really am. Thanks for everything.”

“It was my pleasure.” Goro looked towards the entrance. “And now… I believe I should return to my room. I’d like to shower and get some work in before I retire. I suppose I’ll see you during the ceremony?”

“Oh, yeah, definitely,” Akira replied. “Uh, have a good night, then.”

“The same to you.”

He watched Goro walk into the building before he turned away and looked out at the water.

It shouldn’t have, but to Akira, it felt a little like an ending, all over again.

* * *

Inside in the lobby, Akira threw himself on a chair and closed his eyes. He had the nagging feeling that he was missing something.

He turned his camera on and thumbed through the pictures he’d taken so far. He couldn’t help but smile as he saw them, because they were all of people he loved and the places here he’d grown enamored with.

He still had just the one picture of Goro from earlier. There he was, with his eyes fixed ahead like he could see something no one else could, that same contemplative frown tugging at the edge of his mouth. What had he been thinking about?

Akira thought about everything Goro had told him. How he’d suddenly decided Akira had to know just how Goro had come to think of him. How he’d called Akira the only person who was different, the only one who’d really _seen._

He went through his photos again, thumbnails blurring faster. There they were: all of the important people in his life, and then Goro. This way it was almost easy to pretend he was one of them.

Akira took a moment to think about it. What would it be like if Goro was a part of Akira’s life again? Would he fit just as easily into Akira’s life as his image did in Akira’s camera roll? Would it be like it was before, the inscrutability, the distance? And it had always been the distance with Goro, the uncrossable bridge and the guarded fortress.

But hadn’t he bridged that distance that night? Goro had told him things he’d never expected him to reveal. Words that were normal enough from anyone else always seemed a little lovelier, a little more refined, when they fell from Goro’s lips.

_I’d like to try and see what it’d be like if–_

Akira closed his eyes.

 _It’s not about what I think. What I want doesn’t matter. Not that I want anything. It’s about what makes sense._ And maybe beginning to entertain the concept of possibly dredging up old feelings for an ex who he’d only reunited with a few days ago really, really did not make sense. And would not, ever. On any universe.

“What makes sense,” Akira murmured, like saying it out loud would help solidify it in his mind. “What makes sense.”

“Talking to yourself’s cool and all, but I’m right here,” someone said.

“Wha– oh, hey!” Akira looked up. Futaba was standing in front of him, hands on her hips. She had a slightly weary look on her face, her hair tied up and wound into a messy bun at the base of her scalp as usual, wearing a sweatshirt that said SHIBUYA TECH-A-THON 2019 in faded letters. “I was beginning to think I might not see you at all today."

“Not gonna get rid of me that easy.” Futaba took a seat beside him. “But seriously, I barely had a moment to myself all day.”

“Wait, really?”

“Yeah.” She stretched and leaned back in her chair. “Ann made me help with tablecloth selections, because she was having second thoughts about which ones to use at the reception and in full panic mode, and I had to stare at five million pieces of fabric that all looked the same. Then just when I was done with that I ran into Okumura and she invited me out with her friends, and she was doing that… thing where she, like, glows or whatever and I couldn’t say no!”

“You went out with Okumura? How was it?”

“For a while, a little… too much. Like, I didn’t know any of her rando friends! But I think Okumura could sense how I was feeling, and she pulled me aside and helped me to calm down.” Futaba folded her arms. “It was nice of her, but… argh, so embarrassing!”

Akira smiled. “Okumura’s really a good person.”

“Yeah, she really is,” Futaba said, but she had a strange expression on her face. “So, anyway, where did you disappear to all day?”

“Well…” Akira shifted in his seat. “Funny story. Actually, I was with Goro.”

“...Goro _Akechi_ ,” Futaba said.

“The very same.”

“Okay,” Futaba said flatly, “I’m gonna need more data on this.”

“And I’ll tell you everything, but before that… can I talk to you about something?”

Futaba’s eyes widened. “Whoa.”

“...What?” Akira said, frowning.

“You sounded almost _exactly_ like Sojiro just then. Hostile detected!”

“Ha ha.” God, was he going to turn into Sojiro when he got old? That was a crisis he’d have to save for another time. “I’m not a hostile, but I do have a question.”

“Well, okay. Shoot.”

Akira made his voice firm. “Futaba.”

“Yes?”

He had to ask. “Did you smuggle Morgana into Venice?”

Futaba’s face paled. “Ah.”

It seemed his hunch had been right after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah it’s uh not possible to take a gondola from murano to venice in real life i have striven to be completely accurate in every other aspect of this fic re:venice so far but i allowed myself this single ADMITTEDLY VERY GENEROUS artistic liberty very sorry. also i keep thinking that maybe i can get a chapter to not be almost hitting or passing 10k but it’s clearly not happening lately bc i’m wordier than i thought ANYWAY thank you for reading as per usual


	7. speed trials

“In here?” Akira said, standing in front of the closet in Futaba’s room.

“Yeah,” Futaba muttered. “He likes to nap on the top shelf.”  She slid open the door.

At first, it was hard to make out Morgana’s form in the darkness of the small closet. But when Akira looked more closely, he could see a familiar, loaf-shaped bundle of fur. In response to the sudden light, the loaf opened its eyes– azure ones that unmistakably belonged to the cat Akira knew so well.

“Okay. Here we go.” Akira reached up and peeled the cat off the shelf, even as Mona squirmed in his arms, annoyed at the interruption of his rest. “Wow, you really have him… heyyy, Mona,” Akira greeted, holding him up at eye level. “Having a nice vacation?”

Morgana yawned.

A moment later they were spread out on Futaba’s bed. In the few days they’d been in the hotel Futaba had already managed somehow to infuse the room with pieces of her personality: her sweatshirts draped over the television and the chair, her noise-cancelling headphones lying conspicuously on the nightstand, various wires and cables spilling out onto the floor.

It was time to ask questions. Akira began with the easier ones. “What’ve you been feeding him?”

“Well, I brought food, obviously.” Futaba stroked Morgana as he lay on her lap. “But I guess he’s been in the kitchen, huh...”

“Among other places.” Akira recounted his and Goro’s investigation from earlier in the day.

Futaba’s eyes widened after he finished the story. “I mean, I was letting him wander sometimes, because you know how he likes to do that, but… Jeez!” She looked down at Morgana. “You caused so much trouble!”

Morgana stretched out his paws.

“But how’d you figure out it was Mona so fast?” Futaba demanded.

“What other cat would be smart enough to fool an entire cooking crew?” Akira reached over and rubbed the underside of Morgana’s chin. “Plus the fancy salmon he stole. Mona’s always had expensive tastes.”

“Seriously, Akira.”

“Okay, okay. Mostly it was because I noticed how you’ve kept your backpack so close these past few days. You had him in there, didn’t you?”

Futaba sighed. “...Yeah, you got me. He was fine with it, too. Just like he was when you used to carry him around.”

Akira nodded, cracking a smile. “I even brought him to school a few times for fun. Totally undetected.”

“He is a master of stealth,” she replied.

“So I just had a hunch and put the pieces together. I’m surprised it turned out to be right, honestly. But Futaba…” Akira sat up. “If you wanted him here with you that badly, why didn’t you just say so? Why’d you feel like you had to sneak him here?”

“Er…” Futaba looked to the side. “I thought he could use a vacation?”

“Futaba,” Akira wheedled.

“Look, I just–”

Futaba seemed determined not to look at him. Her grip on Morgana was visibly tightening, enough for him to give an offended _meow_ and bound out of her arms. They both watched him pounce off the bed and prowl around the room for a moment before settling down on the chair by the window.

Futaba closed her eyes. “You’re gonna say it’s stupid.”

“You know I would never say that.”

Her pained face was tight with frustration. “Okay, I... need Morgana. I need him because–” She seemed to falter.

“Hey,” Akira said quietly, after waiting a moment. “If you don’t want to talk about it...”

“No, it’s– it’s fine. Whatever. Okay. You know how–” She paused and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “You know how I’ve been getting better, these past few years?”

“Better,” Akira repeated, after a moment. “By that you mean– ?”

“Getting used to new places, and things, and people. Living on my own. Overcoming all the things I’ve struggled with for such a long time. And it’s worked.” She took a breath. “Everything has been getting better, and I thought _I_ was better, but– just deciding to come here took so much out of me. Caught me off guard. I thought– I thought it wouldn’t be so bad.”

Akira bit his lip. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were having a hard time, I should’ve–”

“No, it’s okay, calm down. It’s not like all of it has been bad. Just the parts where I’ve had to, y’know, adjust to how different everything is, and… talk to people...” She sighed. “It’s my fault. I overestimated myself.”  

“It’s your first time leaving Japan,” Akira said gently. “When I first met you you were barely able to come out of your room. This is a huge step.”

“I know that! And I kept thinking about how huge the step was, and I was getting panicky again, anxiety almost as bad as it used to be, even, so I just–” Her face scrunched up in frustration. “The morning of our flight, I… took Mona. I just took him. I put him in my backpack, and somehow got him on board. I could’ve paid the extra animal fee or whatever, but I didn’t want you or Sojiro to know.”

“But I still don’t–” Akira tried to find a way to articulate his confusion. “Futaba, did you seriously think I was going to judge you or–”  

“I know, I know, okay?! I know you wouldn’t have!” Her voice suddenly rose in volume, and Akira fell silent.

Futaba rubbed her temples. “It’s not because of you, or Sojiro, or whoever. It’s– me. I was ashamed of myself. For needing… the help. Because Mona’s always helped calm me down before, just by being there. And he really has for the past few days, too, whenever I feel like I’m on the verge of freaking out. But I was– ashamed.”

The word hung there in the air, all the more bleak for the hushed, hesitant way she’d said it. Futaba curled into herself even further, a miserable expression on her face that made it clear how hard it had been for her to reveal how she felt. Akira felt her pain acutely, like it was his own, and for a second something inside him flared with anger– not at Futaba, but at the world, for being such an unforgiving place for those who struggled to find their place in it. But he took a breath and asked, voice level, “Why did you feel ashamed?”

“Don’t ask me that,” Futaba muttered. “You know why. What kind of adult needs their pet cat before they can feel comfortable in a new place? It makes me feel so– weak, and I worked for so long to be able to stop feeling like that, and here I am again, like nothing ever changed at all!” Her hands clenched into fists for a moment before, fingers unfurling; they fell back, lifeless, onto the sheets. “Like I’m right back to being that scared little kid again.”

“...Hey,” Akira said quietly. “You know something?”

“What?”

“There was nothing wrong with that kid. I met her and got to know her, and I thought she was pretty cool.”

Futaba was silent.

“Sure,” Akira continued, looking right at Futaba, even though she was still refusing to meet his eyes, **“** she was going through a really, really tough time, and maybe her ways of coping weren’t the best, or healthiest– but that’s different now. You changed that part of yourself because you wanted to, and you did it all on your own. And that took an insane amount of strength.”

Futaba opened her mouth as if to speak, but then closed it again.

“You have come far,” Akira said, after waiting a moment. “You did something that terrified you because you love Ann, and you wanted to make her happy on the most important day of her life. And you have done that. She’s so glad you’re here. And that’s what’s important, Futaba– that you’re _here_. Cat or no cat. Look, I promise I don’t mean to talk down to you. I know you’re not a kid anymore. But I’m telling you that if something makes you feel less anxious, there’s nothing wrong with having it. Your well-being is the most important thing. Screw thinking about how an adult should act, or whatever– you’re better than any asshole out there who’d hold you to some made-up standard.”

“Akira…” Futaba muttered.  

“You were always great,” he continued, “but you’re always getting even better. Even if you feel like you’ve taken a step back, everyone who loves you will still be here for you until you’re ready to get back on your feet. And–”

“Okay, okay, stop!” Futaba had buried her face in her hands. Akira worried for a moment that she was crying, but when she pulled her hands away he could see she didn’t look teary, just embarrassed. “Sorry. Thank you. Seriously, thanks. I really– thank you. I love you. But you know I’m no good with these types of conversations, so, uh, stop, please. But thank you.”  

Akira nodded, but then said quickly, “Okay, one last thing–”

“Akiraaaaaaa–”

“You’re the strongest person I know and I’m really proud of you and I love you too. There.” He grinned. “Done, I promise.”

“Ughhh,” Futaba said, but the corners of her mouth turned up in a small smile. For a moment she was silent, before she carefully said, “I know that… you’re right. Logically. It’s just… hard to get myself to believe it.”

“I understand,” Akira said quietly. “It’s not easy.”

“Yeah. I’m gonna– try hard to remember everything you just said. It’s so easy to get frustrated, but…” She sighed, then gave him a weary smile. “I… feel better now. Thanks. Again.”

There was no need to thank him; he’d just been telling the truth– but he knew from experience that saying that would just make Futaba uncomfortable, so he held back. “No problem. I’m glad you feel better. You do, though, right? You’re not just saying that?”

“No, I really do. You’re always great at giving… perspective. I tend to forget that, I think.” She looked away, a little embarrassed. “Y’know, I’m really… glad I have you in my life.”

Akira thought he felt a lump in his throat, but he quickly spoke up before he could get too emotional. “Why wouldn’t you be glad? I’m incredible. And good-looking. And charming. And–”

“God, shut _up_ ,” Futaba said, rolling her eyes. She and Akira smiled at each other.

They sat there for a moment, taking a breather, until Futaba spoke up again. “Keep this a secret for now? I’m gonna fess up to Okumura… eventually.  When we were hanging out with those people she knew, she was super patient with me, even though she seemed confused at first about how awkward I was. But she was trying really hard to make me more comfortable. I can tell she’s a good person. So I want to apologize to her. Just… dunno how yet.”

“You’ll figure it out,” Akira said. “I know you will.”

“Your blind faith in me is your weak point, you know,” Futaba said, but she smiled.

They lapsed into quiet again. Futaba slumped on the bed, looking tired out. Akira was about to ask if he should let her rest when she suddenly shot forward again and exclaimed “Oh, wait!”

“Huh?”

“Goro Akechi!”

“Oh.” Akira sighed. “Yeah. Goro Akechi.”

“You spent the whole _day_ with him?” Futaba hit him with the full force of her shrewd gaze. “Explain.”

Akira rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, it was after we were doing the whole cat thing , and then neither of us really had anything to do, and then stuff happened, and we went out to Murano and got gelato and explored, and then…” He paused for effect. “We took a gondola ride.”

“You _what_?” Futaba demanded.

“You heard me. A gondola.” Akira flashed a smile. “He couldn’t resist my charm in the end. I don’t blame him. After all, I’m–”

“Let me guess,” Futaba said flatly. “You couldn’t find another way to get back here.”

Akira wilted. “Can’t you just let me have one moment?”

“No. Anyway, did you guys just fight the whole time?”

“Actually, no.” Akira tugged at his earlobe. “We kinda just… talked. About our relationship, our lives, you know. It was pretty nice.”

Futaba raised one eyebrow. “That’s a total reversal of how he was treating you earlier.”

“Yeah,” Akira said, sighing. “He’s…” He trailed off, absently drawing circles on the sheets of the bed with his index finger.

“Ew,” Futaba said, narrowing her eyes suspiciously. “Are you pining?”

“I… no!” Akira sputtered.

“Because if you are, take it outside. I don’t want you pining all over my room.”

“I’m not _pining_!” Akira protested. He paused. “Maybe. He’s just… so pretty–”

“That’s always where it starts, huh,” Futaba said dryly.

“–and articulate, and witty, and a really specific kind of sensitive, and mean, but, like, in a sexy way, you know?”

“I don’t, actually.”

“Ugh.” Akira leaned backwards and closed his eyes. “I don’t know. Like, I don’t even know how he really feels about me, and even before that, I’m still not sure what _I_ want from him, and what if he thinks that I think that he’s–”

“Okay,” Futaba interrupted. “You know what you need?’

“To get laid? A drink?” Akira said glumly.

“Nope. You need to go the hell to sleep.” She raised her chin authoritatively. “You’ll understand what you’re feeling in the morning.”

“You think so?” Akira said doubtfully.

“Eh, probably.” Futaba shrugged. “It couldn’t hurt, and you look super tired, anyway.”

“I guess you’re right.” Akira rubbed his eyes.

“And also I have to psych myself up for an hour before I go on video call with a client, so I’m gonna need my space,” she said matter-of-factly.

“Understood.” Akira dragged himself to the edge of the bed and stood up. He made his way over to the chair Mona had claimed for himself and leaned down close to the cat’s fur. “Love you, Mona. Be good.”

Morgana purred.

Futaba had gotten up, too, and she watched him as he walked over to the door. Just before he passed her, Akira stopped. “Hey. Never feel like you have to keep anything from me, okay? If you want to talk to someone, I’m always there. If you accidentally commit a murder, I’ll help hide the body. If–”

“I get the picture,” Futaba cut in, but she grinned. “Love you a lot.”

Akira held out his arms. Futaba regarded them warily for a second before she sighed and leaned closer for a hug.

“Okay,” Futaba said, after they’d pulled apart. “Now go away. And get some rest.”

“I will,” Akira said, smiling. “Good night. Good night, Mona,” he called over her shoulder.

Futaba smiled back. “Good night.” 

* * *

They figured it out with their heads hunched over Akira’s phone, limbs spread languidly over the holey couch in his apartment (he’d gotten it for free from the last occupant– it made up for the wear and tear).

“First class of the semester,” Akira said, slowing his rapid scroll through the calendar app and finally stopping at the right month, “would’ve been–”

“Here,” Goro said, pointing a long finger at a Wednesday.

“Right. And– oh, wait. I know a better way.” Akira paused. “When was that thing? The fancy party where you got that award and coldly turned me down.”

“Ha. It’ll be easy to find the date of that gala; I may still have the email invitation in my inbox–”

“No, you don’t, you clean yours out all the time. But I think you forwarded me the details, and I, on the other hand…” Akira switched over to his email app, and they both read the text on the screen: _INBOX– 2,684._

“You know, you really need to do something about that,” Goro said wearily.

The date found after a short keyword search, they continued piecing together the timeline of their relationship. “I remember it was a week and a half after that that I met you in the library. A Friday. So… here.” Akira pointed to another date, and then paused.

“Oh,” Goro said, eyebrows shooting up. “That’s–”

“Tomorrow,” Akira said. Without giving Goro a chance to respond, he leaned over and kissed him on the cheek before pulling away with a smile. “Actually, today. It’s five past midnight. I guess… happy anniversary?”

Goro’s surprised expression gave way to a slow, warm smile. “Happy anniversary.”  

It wasn’t easy, sometimes, even after a year of being together, to tell how Goro was feeling, what he was thinking, even whether he was all the way present when he was with Akira, sometimes, the faraway look that would occasionally appear on his face suggesting otherwise. But Akira could take solace in knowing that if Goro didn’t like this, he could walk away, couldn’t he? Yet he chose to stay by Akira’s side and spend evenings doing nothing in Akira’s apartment and indulging his taste in movies and taking pleasure in all the hundreds of little satisfying things, the changes in routine and the everyday surprises, that being together brought.

So wasn’t it enough, that he got to hold Goro, that they’d slipped into that easy routine of comfortable understanding between couples who knew each other’s habits and idiosyncrasies? It felt good, that Goro relied on him for moments they could only share with each other, a connection Goro couldn’t replicate, even with all his other accomplishments. It should be enough, that he got to see Goro like this. The reality of him seemed all the lovelier the harder it was to see.

“I can’t believe neither of us were able to remember the date,” Goro said with a little laugh.

“I can. I’m no good with that stuff, and you’re too distracted.”

“I suppose you’re right. Another reason we’re so terribly compatible.” Goro grinned at him and shifted on the couch, resting languidly against the cushions.

“What should we do to celebrate?”

“It might be too late to get a reservation at any of the nice places,” Goro said, frowning in consideration.

“We could celebrate right _now,_ ” Akira said slyly.

“Well, in that case...” Goro sat up and pulled him closer for a kiss.

This was Goro, Akira thought as he breathed in his scent, felt his lips against Akira’s, felt the feeling of warm oblivion and pleasant inevitability that came from the conviction that surely nothing else mattered except this. Because if Goro was always a little out of reach, then at least Akira always knew that he was the one who would always give enough to make Goro smile that pleased, genuine smile, that he was the one Goro needed. This, too, was something they’d worked out without words, a dynamic they’d forged all by themselves, all because of the strength of their attraction.

And that _was_ enough in moments like these, when they were together in a way that made being apart unimaginable, and Akira could think of nothing else except how he liked Goro, loved him, even, and how he could tell Goro felt strongly for him too. And when that was the case, what more did they need?

* * *

The next morning, Akira was not any more aware of what he wanted than he’d been the night before.

He stared at himself in the bathroom mirror, squinting blearily. Mirror-Akira blinked back at him.

He cocked his head and gave his reflection a once-over. That same unruly hair that would be past his shoulders soon, if he let it grow. Face newly freed of stubble after he’d shaved earlier. Shoulders that unfortunately could never be realistically described as “broad”. One of his friends at the magazine always took unnecessary delight in teasing him for his purported scrawniness. Akira frowned peevishly at the memory. _I just don’t have time to work out._ Yeah, that was it.

He tried to picture the person he used to be. How had he looked, back in college? His hair had been a little different. Eyes probably brighter, representative of a young mind not yet burdened by thoughts of an annual salary or post-graduate life **–** oh, and not behind glasses, either. Had he been slightly shorter, maybe? Walked faster? Had a different way he talked?

He wondered idly how much Goro had changed, how much Akira would notice if he could examine every detail for himself, peeling away all of Goro’s layers until the whole of him was laid bare.

_...Wait. No. Not like that._

Well, a little like that, actually, but Akira’s musings were mostly motivated by a scientific curiosity. He felt the urge to look closely, to measure out all the little things about Goro he’d have missed otherwise, counting the changes and taking note. It was like the more he came to know about Goro, the more he wanted to understand.

How perfectly untouchable Goro seemed, now, with his stiff shoulders and his face always turned away, even when he was telling Akira the truth. Akira had only wanted to see how his eyes looked when he was baring his soul, how the lashes would fall, how they would have lowered, unsure and a little demure. He thought about the way Goro’s voice had forced the words out into the open, stopping and starting again in his reluctance like a worn-down old cassette.

Akira turned on the faucet and ran cold water into the sink, ducking over the basin and splashing it over his face. Dragging his hands down his cheeks, he closed his eyes and sighed.

There was no use trying to kid himself– if there was one thing he’d learned about Goro, it was that fantasy had nothing on reality.

A moment later, Akira got ready for the day back in the room, thinking things over as his hands moved of their own accord, mindlessly putting things in his bag into some semblance of order. Maybe this whole thing was just a passing fancy, and as soon as he got on his flight back home, he’d forget all about Goro, and that strange pull on Akira he seemed to have would cease to be important.

Or maybe it wouldn’t, and right when Akira left he’d burn with regret for a chance he could have had with someone who’d been so important to him in the past– someone who was so captivating to him now.

“Ugh,” Akira said out loud to no one, and shook his head. He tried to mentally arrange his priorities. He was here for his best friend’s wedding. Not to agonize over something that might not even matter.

But the ceremony was in a few hours. Maybe he’d have time to seek out Goro before then. There was no harm in that, right? He didn’t know what he’d say or do, but... if he saw Goro, if he got to talk to him, maybe he’d get his head straight. Maybe things would make more sense.

Right. Akira slung his bag over his shoulder, making sure his camera was in place. He faced the door and took a breath, reaching for the handle.

Suddenly, his phone buzzed in his pocket.

Akira paused and pulled it out. To his surprise, a notification from the group chat he’d made the other day with his friends sat at the top of his screen. Pressing it revealed a message from Ann.  

 

> Ann Takamaki  
>  hey guys!!!  
>  SOS!!
> 
> _Akira Kurusu_  
>  what’s happening
> 
> _Ann Takamaki_  
>  oh akira you’re here
> 
> _Ann Takamaki  
>  _ where are you right now?
> 
> _Akira Kurusu_  
>  I’m just about to leave my room
> 
> _Ann Takamaki  
>  _ oh i’m nearby
> 
> _Ann Takamaki_  
>  hang on i’m coming towards you!!
> 
> _Ann Takamaki_  
>  don’t move!!!!!!!!
> 
> _Akira Kurusu_  
>  what
> 
> _Akira Kurusu_  
>  well I’m going to go out to the hall
> 
> _Ann Takamaki_  
>  ohh yeah do that actually

An instant after he’d stepped outside, he heard Ann’s voice. “Akira!”

Akira looked up to see Ann barreling down the hallway from his left. The first thing Akira noticed was that even though her make-up was perfectly applied and not a strand of her hair was out of place, she was wearing pajamas.

When she was in front of him, she stopped and took a breath. “Hey!”

“Hey yourself! I can’t believe I’m in the presence of the bride.” Akira took in the sight of her. “You look interesting.”

“Ha ha. I haven’t gotten dressed yet.” Ann tugged at her oversized T-shirt.

“Well, anyway– you’re getting _married_ today! Which... makes me worried about that SOS you sent, actually. What’s happening?”

“Yeah! So about that–” Ann paused and looked over her shoulder furtively before coming closer to Akira and lowering her voice. “I just have a little task for you.”

“Okay…?” Akira raised his eyebrows. “If it’s about those tablecloths you were making Futaba look at, I don’t think I’ll be of any help.”

“Oh, it’s not that.” Ann swept her hair behind her shoulder. “I already decided number seventeen is the way to go! Off-white and lace trim is a perfect match for the vibe of the reception.”

“Sounds very classy,” Akira allowed.

“Right? But anyway, it’s not the tablecloths. The thing is, my family and Makoto’s were supposed to get a portrait taken together at one o’clock, in the banquet hall we’re going to have the reception in.”

“Oh,” Akira said, confused. “Do you want me to take the picture, or–”

“Oh, no, there’s a photographer on her way here to do that already. Actually…” Ann wrung her hands. “I’m going to need you to stall.”

“Uh… stall what?” Akira said dubiously.

“The picture from being taken. See...” Ann paused. “You know how Sae is Makoto’s only family? And you also remember how I told you she doesn’t like me?”

Akira folded his arms. “I still don’t get that. Everyone likes you.”

Ann threw up her hands. “I know! That’s why it sucks! And with Sae, it’s so obvious. She isn’t passive-aggressive, like my mom. She’ll just be kind of quiet and judgy until she talks, and then it’s always criticism and pointed comments.” She sighed. “I think it’s because she thinks I’m… like… flighty. Or shallow. Or _something_.”

Akira frowned. “That’s not fair. Have you… talked to Makoto about this?”

Ann clicked her tongue. “Makoto and Sae have a… complicated whole thing. They’re close, but Makoto really cares about what Sae thinks of her. We’ve talked about it, but I don’t think it’s fair to complain about Sae to her. You know? It would stress her out.”

“Yeah, I get it, kind of… Anyway, why do you need the picture postponed?”

“Okay. So. Back home, before we got here, Sae gifted me these earrings. Really pretty, really expensive... And even more than that, it was meaningful, you know? Like a conciliatory gesture, since she’s obviously not my biggest fan. And I know she expects me to wear them today, and...” She trailed off.

“Ann,” Akira said slowly. “You didn’t…”

Ann fidgeted.

“...lose them…”

She cringed.

“...did you?”

Ann ran a frenzied hand through her hair. “Okay, look. They’re here. I know they’re here because where else could they have gone? They have to be here. I had them all ready just a day or two ago…”

“Oh, Ann,” Akira sighed.

“Hey, don’t _oh, Ann_ me! Look, I have it all worked out, okay? I’m going to find them. I just can’t let Sae know, obviously–”

“What about Makoto?”

“I don’t want to worry her! This is nothing. I just need a teeny-tiny bit of time to look. So get me time, pretty please? Make up an excuse or something.” Before Akira could respond she’d already turned away and resumed her breakneck pace to scurry off in the direction of her own room. “Thank you! Love you!” Before Akira knew it, she was gone.

Left alone in front of his room, Akira ran a hand through his hair. “Love you too,” he said dryly to the empty air.

He took a look at the time. Thirty minutes until the picture was to be taken, and four hours until the ceremony. Well, if he had to stall, he’d better get started quickly.

His hopes for a prompt beginning to his quest to cause a late start were dashed when he ran into Okumura in the lobby and was immediately whisked away into the kitchen.

“I really can’t thank both you enough for your help yesterday!” Okumura said cheerily, even as she steered him into the back of the dining area with an iron grip on his shoulder. “I was searching for Akechi this morning to convey my appreciation to him as well, but I’m afraid I wasn’t able to find him.”

“Goro?” Akira said, turning to look at her even as he was all but pushed through the doors of the kitchen. “Did you end up seeing him after that?”

“No, I’m afraid not. I’ll have to speak to him at the ceremony. Oh, look!” Okumura smiled. “Everyone’s here.”

Akira looked up. In front of him stood Okumura’s staff, who had paused from their work when he entered.

“Uh…” Akira said, slightly confused. “Hey, everybody. Um, lots to do today, huh?”

“Yes, we’re preparing to cater the reception,” Okumura answered him. “But before that, I’d request a moment of your time **.** I was a little… displeased, you see,” she said delicately. “With the fact that all the trouble was caused by one little kitty, and apparently no one here could tell.”

“Oh, you shouldn’t blame them,” Akira began. “Seriously, I know–” He clamped his mouth shut. He’d been about to say he knew the cat in question and how sly it could be, but he didn’t want to reveal anything until Futaba had a chance to apologize. He coughed. “I know you all were stretched thin. Goro and I had time to spare; that was probably the only reason we found out the truth.”

“Well, we’re always stretched thinly– but that gives us even less room to make mistakes such as these.” Okumura gave her staff a look before she sighed and allowed, “I don’t mean to pin the blame on everyone here, of course. I’m very upset with myself as well. I should have never let this affect our work in such a way, and to have taken up your time as well is...”

“It’s really no trouble at all,” Akira protested. “I know you’re just passionate because you care about Ann and Makoto.”

Okumura beamed at him. “Thank you for your words, Kurusu. Regardless, I’ve asked every member of my team to personally offer their thanks as well. They’re all very grateful!”

“Wait,” Akira said quickly. “Personally…?”

“Yes! Why don’t we start with Keiko, here?” said Okumura, effortlessly bureaucratic in her manner as she beckoned to a woman. “State your role and your words of appreciation, please!”

After a long while of sheepishly accepting awkwardly-phrased thanks from various strangers and wanting the ground to swallow him, Akira made it to the banquet hall in the lobby with only a few minutes to spare.

When he entered through the doors, Makoto saw him immediately from a few feet away, emitting a confused “Oh, Akira.”

“Hello. Oh, wow.” The banquet hall was beautiful, decorated mostly in classic white, with splashes of color in the form of ribbons tied around the chairs and flowers gracing the tables. Then there was Makoto, Sae, and Ann’s parents off to the side, who were all dressed traditionally. Makoto’s elaborate-looking bridal kimono had more folds than Akira could count and was a warm gray color, accented with floral designs that seemed to give life to the garment, and her short hair was styled in a way that seem to speak to her manner: efficient, yet elegant. “Wow, you guys look incredible.”

“Thank you,” Makoto said, graciously and yet with the air of someone who knew exactly how good they looked and didn’t need to be told so by a hoodie-wearing cave dweller. “We chose these clothes for a photo. May I ask why you’re here? Oh, and have you seen Ann?”

“Yeah, actually. Uh, she needs some more time before you guys take the picture,” Akira said, rubbing his head and watching Makoto’s brow furrow in confusion.

“So she sent you to inform us?” Akira flinched and turned in the direction of that sharp voice. No one else he’d encountered here could make their words cut quite like that, except Goro, and he wasn’t there. It was of course Sae, standing with her arms folded and looking distinctly unimpressed. Seeing her looking graceful and unearthly in her stately, black kimono made Akira feel somehow smaller. He tugged sheepishly at the drawstring of his hoodie. He and Ann were similar people; he could easily see how her carefree nature clashed with Sae’s pragmatic one.

“Sis,” Makoto said, giving Sae a look, before turning back to Akira with a concerned frown. “She’s all right, isn’t she? Not unwell? Nothing like nerves that’s keeping her?”

“No, no, no. She could not be more excited about marrying you, I guarantee it. Uh, she just couldn’t get here because…”

Goddamnit, he should have thought about this beforehand. _What’s a white lie that won’t make Ann look bad?_

There was no time to deliberate. _Just say something._ “She was, uh, helping… Ryuji.” _Sure, why not?_

“Sakamoto? Is there something wrong with him?” Sae asked, folding her arms.

“Yes, there is. Um… He’s…” Akira racked his brains. _Come on, anything! “_ Afraid? Yeah. He’s afraid that…  that he’ll never find love.” _Oh man. Sorry, Ryuji._

“...Oh,” Makoto said, expression turning sympathetic, at the same time Sae asked flatly “You’re not serious, are you?”

“Yes. He was, uh, pretty broken up about it. I think it just hit him, you know, with the wedding and all. And Ann just had to step in and console him… you know how she is.”

Though she looked doubtful, Makoto nodded. “That does sound like Ann. I’m a little surprised about Ryuji, though…”

“Oh, I mean, he’s quite a sensitive soul,” Akira said solemnly. “You know, it reminds me of this story I heard once.”

“What story?” Makoto asked.

Akira was halfway through narrating a tale involving unrequited love and time travel that he’d completely made up on the spot when Sae abruptly cut in with “Kurusu, I admire your oratory skills, but I’ll have to ask you to stop here. Where is Ann?”

Damn it, he couldn’t do this for any longer. He surreptitiously checked his phone, hoping to see something from Ann, but there was nothing in his inbox. He cleared his throat. “Um, not sure when she’ll be done. But Ryuji seemed pretty broken up, so, maybe… an hour?” _Better safe than sorry._

“An hour?” Sae said incredulously.

“Well, I don’t mind,” Makoto allowed, “but I think I should go check on Ann.”

“Uh, I think that’d make things with Ryuji worse,” Akira said quickly. “He doesn’t want anyone to know… he’d probably be upset that I’m even telling you this, honestly.” _Though that’s because it’s not true._

Sae rolled her eyes. “Well, this is an inconvenience, but I suppose we can hold off for a while.” She turned to Makoto. “Why don’t you use this time to take a break? Sit down for a bit. I’ll bring you some water.”

“Thanks. I think I will,” Makoto said, smiling gratefully at her sister.

As Sae left the room, Makoto sunk down in a chair. “Ah… I haven’t been able to sit down in hours.”

“Really? You must be tired.”

“Yes, I was busy getting ready before immediately coming here.”

Akira nodded. “How are you feeling?”

Makoto gave him a wry smile. “Honestly, I’ve been excited for so long that right now, the excitement seems like it’s turning into nervous energy.”

“Can’t say I blame you. It’s probably pretty stressful right now, huh?”

“Yes… there’s a lot to do. Honestly, the theatrical aspect of this whole thing tends to tire me out. It feels strange to have so much attention directed towards me. I mean, part of me enjoys it, because… well… I love Ann.” Makoto smiled hesitantly. “She’s the best thing to ever happen to me, and I’d like the world to know. But at the same time, it all feels a bit… performative, I suppose. I think I’ll be glad when this ends and Ann and I can begin our lives with each other.”

“You guys are perfect together,” Akira said with a smile. “I hope you can enjoy your big day.”

Makoto smiled back. “Thank you. I’m sure I will.”

He chatted with Makoto for a few more minutes before he left, waving goodbye to Sae and Ann’s parents on his way out. _There. Mission accomplished, mostly, I guess._ He sent a message to Ann with an update, hoping she’d found the earrings by then, but when her reply only said _thanks!!_ with a variety of heart emojis affixed, he bit his lip and feared the worst. _Hopefully she’ll be fine. Now, if I could just find Goro–_

But before he could finish that thought, he spotted Ryuji coming out of the elevator.

“Hey, what’s up?” Akira said, approaching him.

“Oh, hey, dude!” Ryuji said, turning. “Man, it’s sure good to see you. Where the hell were you yesterday?”

“Well, I was–”  

“Actually, hold on.” Ryuji held up a finger and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket.”I need you to go to this address.”

“Wait, what?”

“Just listen. This store, just Google Maps the right water bus to take, and buy some paint. Wait, I have a list of specific colors somewhere–” He fumbled in his pockets.

“Paint– is this for _Kitagawa’s_ thing? His painting for Ann and Makoto?” Akira asked in disbelief.

“C’mon, man, help me out here– do you know how many paint runs I’ve had to make since this morning?” Ryuji said, voice strained. “Three. Three! You gotta do this for me; I’m pretty sure the lady at the shop thinks I’m some kind of… paint sociopath or something!”

“I cannot believe this, but fine. Why does everyone keep assigning me tasks?” Akira snatched the paper from him with a sigh. “I’m so nice that I’m not even going to ask you why you actually put up with being ordered around by Kitagawa. Does he not have his own paint?”

“Guess he needs more than he expected. And you should see his eyes, dude!” Ryuji said, with surprising vehemence. “When he works. They’re so intense. It’s like… if I say no, I’m rejecting the legacy of da Vinci or something.”

“Oooo-kay.”

“I’m serious!”

“I’m sure you are. Oh, one more thing–  don’t go into the banquet hall yet. Also, when you see Makoto or Sae, try to act heartbroken.”

He heard a confused “Huh?” from Ryuji behind him, but Akira was already walking away.

* * *

It wasn't as if Akira was opposed to making out with Goro. In fact, it was one of his favorite things to do. It was just that doing it in a storage room in the research building on campus, while fun in an illicit kind of way, wasn't very comfortable, considering the way his elbow kept knocking against a metal shelf, and also slightly disconcerting, since he couldn't really remember how they'd gotten in here. But the rest of it was really good, so it took some time for Akira's brain to function properly enough for him to be able to pull away and say "Wait."  
  
Left to his thoughts in the absence of sensation, his mind slowly restarted. The two of them had been on their way to one of Goro’s exams, Akira really only walking him there, when they'd passed the closet and Goro had suddenly stopped before leaning over and whispering _nobody ever goes in there, you know_ , his breath hot on Akira's neck, and then Goro's hand was somehow on the handle and in the next moment somebody's back was against a wall.  
  
And it wasn't like this was the first time something like this had taken place. Goro seemed to have a startling predilection for this kind of thing. When he pieced together his memories of all the previous instances in which it'd happened, Akira had realized Goro seemed most inclined to initiate contact right before he had some important responsibility in the future, a high-stakes interview or a particularly difficult exam. Or it was when Akira asked him something about how he was feeling or thinking– and that was a whole different bag of worms, because then Goro would just say something vague in answer before all but smashing their teeth together. Which was... getting kind of weird, but...  
  
It had gotten to the point that whenever he was aware Goro had something coming up, Akira would find himself getting excited, like Goro had somehow Pavloved him into getting turned on by mentions of future academic events, which was something Akira did not care to analyze. He didn’t understand it, anyway. Goro seemed to have a strange relationship with this kind of intimacy, but Akira was at a loss as to what that could mean, or if it had to mean anything.  
  
"What? Is something wrong?" Goro said now, voice rough. His face was flushed red, his hair mussed, his eyes like two forest fires. He looked slightly debauched and wholly irresistible, which made what Akira was about to say even harder.  
  
"No, just– your test," Akira said, still catching his breath. "That's– when is that? We should probably–”  
  
"There's still time before it begins. We have fifteen minutes." Goro attempted to pull him closer again, but Akira held back.  
  
"Don't you want to look over your notes, or something?"  
  
"No," Goro said, with surprising force. "I don't want that. Akira, I'd like to–” He closed his eyes and took a breath before opening them again. "I've spent a great deal of time preparing for this and an even longer time lying awake at night, dreading it while paralyzed by anxiety, and right now I would very much like to stop thinking. Now..." His hands moved to Akira's chest. "Do you think you can help me with that? For just..." He began to undo the top button of Akira’s shirt. "...a little while longer?"  
  
"Oh," Akira said dumbly. "Uh..." There was something the logical part of his brain was trying to convey to him that, if he had space to process it, might give him pause– something that had to do with the slightly frantic tone of Goro's voice, or the fact that he hadn't mentioned any of this apparent stress to Akira before just then– but he was rapidly becoming unable to focus on anything that wasn't the look of Goro's lips or the deft movement of his hands. "Um. Yup."  
  
"Lovely," Goro said, something a little wild in his eyes that sent shivers up Akira's spine. He pulled Akira closer once more, raising his lips to his ear, and this time Akira didn't pull away. "Then shut up and kiss me."

* * *

When Akira got to the store, one water-bus trip later, he immediately realized he’d have to use his own money. _God, somebody is gonna pay me back for this_. After he placed the requested paint on the counter, the proprietor gave him a look like she’d like to know just why suspicious-looking foreigners were buying up her entire supply today. _Great, now I’m the paint sociopath,_ Akira thought as he paid for the three tubes of gouache Kitagawa had requested with a nervous smile, avoiding the woman’s steely gaze. _Whatever the hell that even means._

He took the water-bus back to and returned to the hotel on foot after walking in the wrong direction only twice; a new record. It was only after he’d returned that he realized he didn’t know which room Kitagawa was staying in. After a phone call to Ryuji gave him the answer, he entered the elevator from the lobby and pressed the button for the correct floor.

Seriously, Akira thought, clutching the bag of paint and letting his mind wander as the elevator began its ascent, where was Goro? He had to be around here somewhere. Akira had been running around the hotel since that morning, and yet he hadn’t seen a trace of him.

It wasn’t as if he even had a plan for what he’d say if he ran into him, but not being able to find Goro was making Akira feel strangely anxious. _If I could just see him, I think…_

A moment later and the elevator reached the right floor. In another minute he was at Kitagawa’s door, giving it a firm knock.

He waited. Nothing. He knocked again. There was still no response. He tried once more, with force this time, and the door remained closed. He’d just pulled back his hand for another attempt when, suddenly, it opened.

“Jeez, Akira, knock louder,” said Futaba.

“Uhhh, what are you doing here?” Akira asked slowly.

“Got bored. Why are you here?”

Akira held up the bag in his hand. “Ryuji made me go get paint. Man, I’ve had such a morning. First there was a whole thing with Ann–”

“Oh, yeah, what was with that message?”

He waved a hand. “I’ll tell you later. And then Okumura made her whole staff thank me for finding out about Mona, even though they were clearly all busy. I feel like she should hire more people; they’re always running around doing stuff.”

“Oh,” Futaba said, looking thoughtful. “Well, I had nothing to do after breakfast. Heard Ryuji yelling about something. Followed. Wound up in here. Since then I’ve just been trying to see what could get him–” she moved aside so Akira could enter the room, angling her head in the direction of the bathroom– “to look up **.”**

 _The bathroom?_ Akira stepped closer. The door to the bathroom was open, so he peered inside.

What he saw was something wholly out of the ordinary, and, because it was Kitagawa, somehow simultaneously unsurprising. Even so, Akira gaped.  

“Tried turning up the TV really loudly,” Futaba continued, oblivious to his gawking, “playing music from my phone, told him I was gonna steal his stuff, brought Morgana in for a bit… nothing. He’s totally focused.”

“Okay, why are you tormenting him?” Akira asked, tearing his eyes away with some effort.

Futaba shrugged. “For science.”

“And more importantly, why’s he in the bathtub?!”

Strictly speaking, Kitagawa wasn’t in the bathtub. He was sitting next to it on the tile floor, on a cushion Akira recognized as being taken from the chair inside the room, and clearly painting something, as was evidenced by the brush in his hand and the way he was hunched over and staring intently in front of him at something inside the tub. He’d left the shower curtain halfway closed so that Akira, or anyone else who came by, wasn’t able to see what he was working on. He hadn’t indicated that he noticed Akira he was there.

“Is this situation going to make any sense,” Akira said, “in context?”

Futaba shrugged again. “I don’t even know what the context is. Guy’s barely said a word to me. He only speaks up to accept paint. Look at his face.” She angled her head towards Kitagawa, who seemed to be in a world of his own.

“Seriously haven’t seen him blink in at least five minutes,” Futaba murmured.

“That’s… not possible.”  
  
“Well, I haven’t!”

Akira stood at the entrance to the bathroom, warily clutching the paint.

“Well?” Futaba said. “Give him it.”

“I’m _scared_ ,” Akira whispered.

Futaba pushed him. Akira squawked and stumbled into the bathroom, but even then Kitagawa didn’t look up from whatever was obscured behind the curtain.

“Uh, hey, Kitagawa,” Akira began faintly. The man made no response.

Akira sighed. _I seriously do not have time for this._ He stepped closer, waving the bag in front of Kitagawa’s face. “Hellooooo, paint delivery–”

All of a sudden, Kitagawa reached out and grabbed his wrist.

“Ack!” Akira squawked, staggering a little as Kitagawa firmly pushed him further away.

“My thanks. Please do not look beyond the curtain.” Kitagawa let go of him and returned to his work like nothing had happened.

“What– you didn’t have to _grab me_! And why are you in the bathtub?”

“I am not _inside_ the bathtub, clearly. Because I plan to present this piece as a gift, I do not wish for anyone to see it until it is completed. When it became necessary for Sakamoto to enter this room–”

“So he could give you paint.”

“Yes. When that became necessary, I decided to arrange my workspace in this manner **.** This also allows for easy cleanup. It is an entirely practical measure, considering my present circumstances.”

“...Okay. Aren’t you uncomfortable, though, sitting on the floor like that?” Akira said dubiously. “You could have used the curtain from the window in the room and just stayed there.”

“Hm,” Kitagawa said. “I suppose.”

“Right,” Akira said, giving up on trying to understand. “Anyway, while I have you–”

“I assure you,” Kitagawa said absently, “that you do not have me.”

“Wow.”

“I believe I will be able to complete this piece before the ceremony, but I must be prudent and allow nothing to distract me from my work.”

“Okay, but I just want to know why you sent me that message yesterday. The one about the photo I took.”

“Which picture?” Kitagawa said after a moment. His eyes were still fixed on his work, and he was dragging out his words like speaking took a tremendous amount of energy.

“The one at the Bridge of Sighs,” Akira answered.

“...Ah, yes,” Kitagawa said, after another long moment of silence. “I recall telling you my question was related to my project.”

“You’re gonna use that crappy picture for your painting?” Akira asked, confused.

“Not the picture itself.” At long last, Kitagawa turned towards him. Akira almost took a step backwards– because Ryuji had been right, there was a fierce expression on Kitagawa’s face, in the lines of his eyes– but in the next second it had cooled and he’d returned to his usual, dignified manner, a jarring shift that compelled Akira to pay attention. “It was the intent behind its taking.”

“Uhhh,” Akira said. “Clarify?

“Of course,” Kitagawa began, laying down his brush, “the quality of the photograph is terrible. The composition– likewise, abysmal.”

“Oh, thanks.”

“Frankly, it is hard to believe it was even captured by a professional–”

“Hey, I _get_ it.”

“–but the appeal of it lies in the attempt. The bridge was difficult to photograph from where you were positioned, but you tried to do so, regardless.”

“Uh…” Akira blinked. _The attempt?_ He wasn’t sure he understood. “I mean, yeah, I guess, but what does that have to do with your project, though? Or anything?”

Kitagawa shrugged. “Nothing, perhaps. The photograph appealed to me; I asked on impulse.”

“...Seriously?”

“But there is a certain poignant quality, in this photo, isn’t there, despite the poor result? It brings to mind what you were saying earlier.”

“Earlier when?” Akira leaned back against the sink.

“During our visit to the museum.” Kitagawa turned back to his hidden painting. “You stated that love between people requires work. The same goes for the feeling of love that is the root of all artistic expression. To find something beautiful and worthy of representing in another form is simply the first step in a long and oftentimes arduous process. When one considers an artist’s relationship with their subject in this sense, I do not believe it would be far-fetched to say it requires as much attention as a relationship between two people.”

“...Oh,” Akira said gloomily, letting that sink in. Suddenly, he felt very tired. He slunk down against the sink until he was seated on the bathroom floor. "It all just keeps going back to love today, huh.”

“Clearly, since love is the subject of my piece,” Kitagawa said, arching an eyebrow. “Furthermore, we are here to attend a wedding.”

“You’re right, though,” Akira reflected, staring up at the ceiling. “It’s just like I said. Things like that take– real attention, real time. It’s not enough to just love or want somebody. That’s, like, relationships 101. It is like what I was talking about before– you have to be willing to put in your share of work, and... turn that desire to understand another person into something meaningful. Or else–” he thought briefly of Goro, of college, of things unspoken– “you forget about everything else you should be doing. And things… fall apart.”

Kitagawa made a listening noise.

Akira sighed. _What am I doing?_

Could he really just be destined to repeat past mistakes? Was he just overthinking this whole thing with Goro? This all felt so much more confusing than it had a right to be.

“Kitagawa,” Akira said.

“What is it?”

“One last thing. You think I didn’t...love that bridge enough? You think that’s why the picture turned out to be shitty?”

Kitagawa didn’t reply. When after a moment he spoke again, his voice sounded more thoughtful.

“As all art does,” he began, “your photo tells a story in its taking. A story of a photographer who endeavored, despite a slim chance of success– an artist who became captivated by the subject of his passion. As that artist, you refused to let a chance at fulfilling that passion pass you by. I believe I was endeared by that photo because I sensed that story when I looked at it.”

“...Oh, man,” Akira said, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “Wow, well… you may be giving me too much credit. I didn’t think you could ascribe such meaning to it. I mean, I was really just acting on impulse, without an idea of how things would turn out.”

“Exactly,” Kitagawa said, in a way that made it clear he thought less of Akira for not immediately understanding. “You had no idea how the photo would look. And yet you endeavored, because of your love for the subject **.** ”

“I endeavored,” Akira repeated to himself. He paused. “You think that’s what love is? Not giving up?”

“Hm. Not entirely. There are times when retreating is the wiser option. To assume otherwise is foolhardiness. However, when an opportunity is presented and one’s passion is strong, I can see no reason to keep from moving forward. After all, it is better to have a photo that is _crappy_ , as you say, than to not have taken one at all.”

“You’re right,” Akira murmured.

He thought of the picture of Goro he’d captured the day before– the sun behind him, his eyes on the horizon, a contemplative frown on his face as he looked ahead.

“Hey, Kitagawa… you’re not, like, trying to give me specific life advice, are you?”

Kitagawa frowned. “What could I tell you about photography that you do not already know? I am simply explaining my own thought process.”

“...Right. Silly me.” Akira stood up slowly, gripping the side of the sink for balance. “Thanks. I think I understand things better now.”

“I am not entirely sure what I helped to elucidate for you, but I am glad I could offer my assistance. Thank you again for the paint. And please close the door all the way when you leave.” Kitagawa turned back to his masterpiece, the look in his eyes returning to that previous intensity, and Akira knew he wouldn’t be able to get another word out of him if he tried.

“Can I hang out with you?” Futaba asked when he came out of the bathroom. “I’m getting bored of watching this guy.”

“Always.”

“Bye, Kitagawa!” Futaba sang as they left the room. “I can’t stop thinking about how still he was,” she said when they were outside. “Do you think he’s a cyborg?” She paused. “Wait, if a cyborg produces art, does the art technically belong to the cyborg, or whoever it was that created it?”

“I guess it depends on… how it was… wired?” Akira said doubtfully.

“Well, I think it’s the cyborg’s property. I’m all for robot personhood. Wait–” Futaba’s eyes widened. “Is that what his court case was about?”

Akira decided it would be a good idea to check on Ann. After he explained the situation to Futaba (“Good thing I’m great at finding small objects, like flash drives that fall behind my desk”), the two of them headed to her and Makoto’s room. Upon hearing Ann’s muffled “It’s not locked, come in!” at her door, they stepped inside.

It was a lovely room– a full suite, beautifully decorated with a larger living area. At that moment, though, it looked like hell.

“Whoaaa,” Futaba said, taking in the sight of clothes strewn everywhere, chairs and dressers moved from their positions, and the contents of purses emptied out on every available surface **.** “Did you get robbed?”

“Oh my God, oh my God,” Ann, said in lieu of an answer, covering her face with her hands. She was standing in the center of it all, still in pajamas, looking acutely miserable and far less put-together than she’d been earlier. “I seriously thought I would have found the earrings by now. I didn’t even think this far ahead. What am I going to tell Sae? What–”

“Okay, now just calm down,” Akira said soothingly. “We’re two fresh pairs of eyes, here. Let us take a look, and you just relax for a second.”

“I don’t _deserve_ to relax,” bemoaned Ann, but she sunk down on the armchair with a sigh.  

He and Futaba soon began their search. They started with the bathroom, since Akira could find no fault in Futaba’s claim that “things always get lost in the bathroom. Like the flash drives I always end up leaving in the toothbrush holder”. When that proved fruitless, they moved on to the rest of the room. Akira handled the living and sleeping areas, while Futaba checked the closet and the corners and undersides of things she was, being tiny, well-equipped to reach.

Ann was clearly on edge, unable to do anything besides watch them with a distantly gloomy look on her face, occasionally making comments like “I’m so sorry,” and “I’m going to die.”

Time passed. Just as Akira felt close to giving up, he heard Futaba exclaim in surprise from near the nightstand.

He turned towards her. “You got something?”

Futaba was on the floor, looking up at the wedge between the nightstand and the bed. “Maybe,” she said, voice muffled. After a moment, she turned back towards the light and stood up, clutching something in her hand. “Ann? It’s a little purple box?”

“Yes! Oh my God–” Ann stood up immediately and nearly knocked over Akira in her effort to approach Futaba, stepping over spilled objects on the floor until she reached her. “I… could have sworn I looked there! Did I not look there?”

“Not hard enough, I guess,” Futaba said, shrugging, and yelped when Ann threw her arms around her. “Ack! A little warning, please!”

“Thank you thank you thank you!” Ann wailed. “Oh my God, I was so scared…”

“Okay, okay,” Futaba said, detangling herself. “Enough hugs. You’re very welcome.” She flashed a grin. “Just never forget that I saved your wedding.”

“Seriously, thank you so much, I can’t believe it, I just–” And then suddenly, something seemed to come over Ann, and her face twisted into a sob before she covered it with her hands.

“Ann?” Akira and Futaba said simultaneously, concern paralleled in their voices.

“Shit! I can’t cry, I’m gonna ruin my makeup–” Evidently teary, Ann fanned at her face with her hands and blinked rapidly. Then, she sunk down on the floor with her back against the bed, shoulders hunched.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Akira said gently. He went to sit down on her left side while Futaba crouched on her right.

“Ann,” Futaba said, placing a hand on her shoulder tentatively. “You okay?”

“Yeah. I don’t know. I’m not…” Ann made a noise that was somewhere between a laugh and a sob. “I don’t even know why I’m crying.”

“Want a tissue, or water, or…” Akira offered. He exchanged a glance with Futaba, who was looking as puzzled as he felt. He’d been Ann’s best friend for ten years, but it always felt surreally intimate to see that shining exterior slip away, replaced by Ann’s truth– a woman who always shone, yes, but loved so much that it could sometimes hurt. Back in high school, she’d tear up at anything, lost-kitten posters or friendship vows, pretty sunsets and old movies. But now Ann was far past teenage melodrama, and Akira found he wasn’t sure if everything was okay.

“No, it’s okay,” Ann replied tearily. “I just... this is all so much more– stressful than I imagined. I didn’t… and there’s Sae always looking critical, and I’m scared of– I don’t know! I don’t even know what I’m scared of!”

She took a breath and paused, attempting to collect herself. Akira and Futaba waited.

“I love Makoto,” Ann said, finally. “I love how she’s always patient with me, and she always knows what to say, and her confidence makes me feel like I can do anything, and she’s smart and thoughtful and strong and she makes me a better person. I– wow. Man.” She gave another warbly laugh. “I want to marry her more than anything in the world! Why am I so scared?”

“You know,” Akira offered, “I was talking to Makoto earlier, when I was stalling for you.”

“Yeah?” Ann hiccuped.

“Yeah. She said pretty much the same thing. That she’s not great with all the attention, and that she was feeling stressed out. But Ann… she loves you so much, and that’s the only thing that matters today. Her face when she talks about you– it’s crazy.”

“Crazy,” Futaba agreed. “And it’s okay that you’re scared. Anxiety is weird and doesn’t make sense most of the time anyway. This is one of the most important days of your life. It’s totally natural to freak out a little.”

Ann wiped delicately at her eyes. “So you guys don’t think I’m weird?”

“Oh, we think you’re weird,” Futaba said matter-of-factly.

“But not because of this,” Akira said, smiling.

“Shut _up_ ,” Ann said, nudging both of them hard in the side, and began to laugh despite herself. “God. I really love you guys.”

“We love you, too.” Akira leaned his head against her shoulder, and Futaba did the same. Ann put her arms around the both of them and squeezed.

“Seriously, way too many hugs lately,” Futaba griped, but she didn’t pull away.

Eventually, Ann released them with a smile. “I’m not having a wedding day freak-out, I swear. I just… needed that brief moment of freak-out, I guess.”

“We all need to freak out briefly sometimes,” Akira said, smiling.

“Yeah. Not really ideal, when I’m getting married, though. Oh, the photo!” Ann gasped. “How much time do I have?”

“Oh, man. Just, like, ten minutes, I think... Is that enough time for you to– oh.” Ann had stood up and briskly entered the bathroom while he was still talking.

“Is she–” Akira began.

Futaba dismissed him. “She’s just practicing her craft.”

Five minutes later, Ann emerged from the bathroom. Akira’s mouth fell open. Futaba audibly gasped.

Ann looked beautiful. Her kimono was a bright crimson, with white and pale green accents that took the shape of meticulously-stitched, leaf-like patterns. She’d affixed flowers to her hair, and her lips were tinted with the perfect shade of pink. The earrings from Sae, delicate, silver gemstones, hung from her ears.

“How did you get that on so fast?” Akira gaped.

“A lot of practice. The things we do to keep tradition alive, huh?” Ann twirled proudly. “Do I look amazing or what? It took forever to pick this out. Ooh, but Makoto looks even better– did you see her?”

“Yeah, I did,” Akira said, smiling. “You sure got lucky.”

“Didn’t I?!” Ann beamed and smoothed down the folds of her garment. “Okay, it’s finally time. I’m gonna go show Sae who’s boss!” She paused. “Or not, I guess, because I did push everything back and she’ll probably be mad at me anyway. But you know what? I don’t care. I’m not marrying _her_.” She raised her chin defiantly.

“That’s right,” Akira encouraged. “Go take the best wedding photo ever.”

“Will do!” Ann flashed her model-smile.

They all left the room, and in the hallway Ann turned to them with her dazzling confidence firmly in place. “Thank you guys so much. I would die without the two of you.”

“Good thing we’re here, then,” Futaba said with a smirk.

“Time to go. I’ll see you guys at the ceremony!” Ann gave them one last wave before she turned and disappeared around a corner.

“Huzzah!” Futaba said. “A happy ending.”

“Yup, everything turned out great. I’m glad that–” Akira stopped in his tracks. “Oh, wait!”

“What is it?”

“I just remembered.” He blinked. “I still haven’t eaten anything.”

* * *

“Akira,” Goro’s voice said.

Akira snapped his eyes open. “Hm?”

Goro looked at him, wryly amused. “Try not to fall asleep standing up.”

“Mmrph,” Akira said, rubbing his eyes. “I’ll  _try_.”

He had not been excited when his parents, who he’d been warily, gradually re-establishing a relationship with over the past year, had invited him to come back and visit them in his hometown. He did not like being away from the city. He was not looking forward to the awkward pleasantries, the long silences. And he was not happy about the fact that his train home left at 4:45 A.M.

Akira was not a morning person.

“You look cute when you’re sleepy,” Goro said, grinning.

“Don’t mock me,” Akira balked, but he was pleased.

“Are you sure you’re fine with this?” Goro asked gently.

 _He_ looked cute when his head was tilted just slightly in consideration, eyes genuinely sympathetic and face flushed from the morning cold. Just hearing his concern cheered Akira up. He sighed, straightened and said “No. But I think I’d feel worse if I didn’t go.”

“I understand,” Goro said. He reached out, took Akira’s hands in his, and squeezed. “Call me anytime.”

Akira squeezed back. “I will. I’m gonna miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too.” Goro leaned closer and kissed him on the cheek before they both turned at sudden noise. His train was pulling into the station.

“Well, that’s me.” Akira hefted his bags, catching that slightly perturbed look that was still on Goro’s face. “Hey, don’t worry about me so much. I’ll be fine.”

Goro sighed and smiled slightly. “I know.”

Akira walked over to board, and Goro followed him, standing at the edge of the track with his hands in his pockets.

“Take care,” Goro said.

“You too,” replied Akira, and he really almost said it, _I love you_ , but something stopped him and instead he just gave Goro a last wave and a smile as the train began to move and he had to ready himself for what was to come.

As all things do, the train ride eventually ended. Akira was welcomed back home, if not with open arms, then at least with tentative smiles and good intentions, which was enough. He put his things in his old bedroom, carefully avoided any topics that could lead to arguments with his parents, and slowly began the process of reacquainting himself with his hometown.

There was a place he’d always liked to go, the floodplain near the river by his house. He’d never been good at fishing, lacked the patience, but it always relaxed him to look at the water. He decided to venture there one cloudy morning, when most of the town was still asleep and his own anxious thoughts had jolted him awake despite his desire to be unconscious.

There was an old man sitting near the riverbank with a fishing pole when Akira arrived. Akira sat down on the grass a little ways away from him. The man acknowledged him with a nod and a smile. Akira smiled back.

He got out his camera and took a few shots, nothing dynamic. He was trying to capture as much as he could while he was here. There was no telling when he’d return, and he wanted to show Goro, who’d lived in Tokyo his whole life, how the humble country folk lived.

“That’s a nice camera.”

It was the old man. Akira blinked, confused for a second before he registered the comment. “Oh– thanks. I’m kind of a hobby photographer.”

“You don’t live here, do you?” the man said, turning to him with the same placid smile.

Akira wasn’t great with old people, generally, but there was something kind in the man’s manner that made him relax. “Yeah. I’m coming from Tokyo, just visiting my family here, so I’m taking pictures to show my boyfriend.”

“Ahh,” said the man, nodding in understanding. “So you left someone behind.”

“Yeah. Just for a few days, though. But we’ve never really been separated for even that long. Both of us live in the city and go to the same school. So this is our first time kind of being away from each other, I guess. Wow.” Akira shook his head. “I didn’t realize that was true until I said it just now.”

“It’s hard to be apart,” said the man, “when you’re in love.”

“Oh, well…”  Akira rubbed the back of his neck. “I guess so. Love… is…” He turned his eyes back toward the water. “Huh. Love. You know, I was about to tell him that I loved him, earlier, but I didn’t.”  

“Is that what you feel for him?”

“Well, yeah.” Akira paused. “I do. I love him, but…”

“But,” the old man repeated, and laughed a little. “In my experience, that _but_ can be a problem.”

“Oh, we’re not having _problems._ I mean, I do love him. Bu–” He shut his mouth. “Oh, God. I was just about to do it again.”

“Perhaps it doesn’t mean anything,” the old man offered.

“Yeah. Maybe.” Akira paused for a moment before he added “I think it’s just that– I worry if we’re just together because it’s… easy. Like, we can hang out and do couple stuff and it’s fine and nice, but there’s…” Akira trailed off.

“Hmm,” said the old man.  

“But I can tell he feels the same way about me, that I feel for him. We don’t talk about our relationship or anything, but I mean….” Akira uprooted a few blades of grass. “Why make everything complicated? If I like him, and he likes me, then that’s fine, you know?”

“Perhaps if you talked about it with him,” the old man suggested, “it would make the bond between you two stronger.”

“Ugh, I don’t know.” Akira dragged his hands down his face. “Now I’m thinking about it. I shouldn’t have to think this hard.”

“Relationships aren’t easy,” said the old man. “But if the two of you truly love each other, there’s nothing to worry about.”

“Yeah,” said Akira, a little reassured. He looked out at the water again and remembered how Goro had worried for him, before, remembered that being with him almost always made Akira happier. “That’s what I think, too.” 

* * *

Some minutes later Akira and Futaba were seated at a table in the restaurant in the hotel, enjoying lunch. Akira dug into his pasta before sighing with contentment. “Now that’s better.”

After taking a bite of her sandwich, Futaba nodded. “Never underestimate food.”

“How much time before the ceremony?” Akira asked, leaning back in his chair.

Futaba checked her phone. “Three hours.”

“I guess we should get ready soon.”

“Ugh, I know. I hate dressing up. The things I do for Ann, seriously.”

“Wait, how are you gonna do your hair?” Akira leaned forward.

“Oh.” Futaba wrinkled her nose. “I don’t know? I’ll figure it out.”

“Hm.” Akira put a hand to his chin. “Remember that updo thing you did when you had that one really important meeting?”

“Kind of?”

“Yeah… oh, or maybe that one time I stayed over and did–”

“Akira.” Futaba rolled her eyes. “If you want to do my hair that badly, then just say it.”

“Okay, can I?”

“Yeah, fine.”

Akira beamed. In the next second, though, something he saw over Futaba’s shoulder suddenly got his attention, and he bolted out of his seat. “Wait, is that–”

“Wha?” Futaba said, puzzled.

Akira exhaled and sighed, reseating himself.  “Never mind. I thought I saw Goro, but it was just a white guy with similar hair.”

Futaba rolled her eyes. “A little on edge, are we?”

Akira slumped. “Yeah. I really wanted to see him before the ceremony, you know. I just thought that if I did, I’d get a better handle on… things.”

“What _things_? Seriously, what is your endgame here?”

“I think…” Akira paused. “I’d like to re-establish contact between the two of us. If anything, I’d like us to be friends.”

“Hm.” Futaba took a sip of water. “Just friends?”

“Yeah… well… maybe not. Maybe more. I keep thinking about that _more,_ which is so ridiculous, because it’s so… I don’t know why I’m even thinking about this so hard. It’s literally just been a few days, and I’m seeing him for the first time after five years.”

“Well, has he changed?” Futaba asked.

Akira opened his mouth to reply, but she added, “I don’t mean physically, by the way, in case this is like some psychosexual thing in which you feel a primal urge to bang him so you can feel like you’re at your bodily peak again or–”

“ _Hey_.”

“Just _checking._ ” Futaba stretched. “Really though. Has he changed?”

Akira thought it over. Of course Goro was different. That much was obvious. Despite what Futaba said, it was impossible to not notice the physical changes, especially the ones that betrayed how he’d grown as a person– the less stiff way his voice sounded, the more casually confident way he carried himself. And then there was the way he’d spoken to Akira, honest and sincere, in a way that felt more genuine than anything Akira had heard from him before.

“Yeah, he has, as far as I can tell. I think he seems like he’s in a better state of mind,” Akira said finally. “And for what it’s worth, I think that I’ve changed, too.”

“Well, good for him. And you.”

“Yeah. I keep thinking, if I met him now, for the first time, what would…” He sighed and adjusted his glasses. “God, it’s– no. It’s crazy that I'm even considering this.”

Futaba shrugged. “Well, I don’t know. Crazier things have happened.”

“Like what?” Akira said.

Futaba counted a list off on her fingers. “I got a cat past airport security undetected, Ann’s marrying a lawyer, we met an art robot, you met your ex-boyfriend in another country after five years.” She shrugged again. “I mean… it’s got to count for something, right? That you magically reunited.”

“That’s what I was thinking…”

“On the other hand, life isn’t a manga with a neat little ending. Rushing into anything based on some belief in fate, or whatever, could be stupid.”

“Uuuuugh.” Akira put his head down on the table. “Stop giving me conflicting advice.”

Futaba poked at his head until he raised it again. “Look, don’t overthink it. You’re gonna see him soon, and you still have a little bit of time. You’ll figure your shit out.”

Akira sighed mournfully. “I hope so.” He rested his chin in his hand. “Hey, how’ve you been feeling today, so far?”

“Not that bad.” Futaba fidgeted. “Not really looking forward to the reception, though.”

Akira nodded. “I’ll be right by your side.”

“Thanks.” Futaba paused. “You know, I kind of had an idea, but… I don’t know, it might be stupid.”

“Nothing you say is stupid; you have a genius-level IQ. What is it?”

“It’s Okumura… you said she was stretched thin earlier, right? Maybe… I could see if she needs help with anything. Would be a good way to apologize, I think… and if I was there at the reception with, like, a purpose, maybe, then I think I’d be less anxious. That’s worked before.” She hesitated. “What do you think?”

“Hey– yeah!” Akira nodded emphatically. “Futaba, this is a good idea.”

She grinned sheepishly. “Yeah? I thought I’d go look for her now.”

“Great! She’s probably in the kitchen, or maybe with Ann and Makoto.”

“Okay, I’ll check both places.” Futaba stood up. “Guess I’ll go, then... Meet me in my room in an hour? I’ll be changed by then, and you can do my hair.”

“Yeah, great. See you later.”

After they exchanged goodbyes and Futaba left, Akira sat back in his chair. He only allowed himself a moment of laziness, though, before he stood up with a sigh and stretched.

It was time to get ready for the ceremony.


	8. reflecting light

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whew. sorry it took forever to get this up you know when life just... yeah... life. also, "double update"! (not really because it was all originally one chapter but i decided against throwing like 17k words at you at once! so instead you get two chapters of weird length!) take a break in between maybe... drink some water... make some tea…
> 
> re: the chapter count– sorry it keeps fluctuating, i’m so shit at planning and also wordier than i thought i was, but there is a plan, it’s just being poorly executed rn. this should be the final count. i should also mention that one chapter is reserved for an epilogue which won’t be full-length. 
> 
> anyway thanks as always for reading! i have such a great time writing this fic so i love to hear when people tell me they have a good time reading it. without further ado

“You ever hear that saying?” Ryuji said gloomily.

“Which one?” Akira replied absently, tugging at the cuff of his sleeve under his suit jacket. He’d chosen to wear classic, understated black. _In many respects, the sexiest color._ It felt strange to dress formally, but he had to admit that he treasured the rare instances in which he got to show off how good he looked in a suit. And God, did he look good. Obviously.

Ryuji let out a defeated sigh. “The one that says when two people get married, two single people die.”

“Oh. No, I haven’t heard that, but it seems a little pathetic. Also, I can’t relate, because–”

“Don’t,” Ryuji interrupted. “Seriously, don’t say that thing about how you’re married to your job or the grind or whatever, or I’m gonna drop-kick you right here.”

“It’s the  _hustle,_ ” Akira said petulantly, but he obediently fell silent.  

Ann and Makoto had opted to get married in one of Venice’s many blink-and-you’ll-miss-it smaller churches, rather than taking a shot at holding their ceremony in the basilica at St. Mark’s or going for a more opulent venue. It was a good decision, in Akira’s opinion. He was never much for ceremony, but a wedding in a church felt pleasantly traditional, and the small one they were in was just right for the size of the wedding party and the invited guests. There were only a few decorative elements– a single stained-glass fixture in the front, a cross hanging from the lectern– and the floors and ceiling were wooden, but it all felt comfortable and warm.

He and Ryuji were standing next to the doors to the chapel, just a few minutes before the ceremony was due to start. Futaba was with them, tugging at her earlobe absently as they all watched people mill around and start to take their seats. Akira examined his handiwork proudly: her hair, swept up in a carefully-arranged updo with a braid. The dress she was wearing– sage green, with long, lace sleeves– added to the look. Akira had already taken several candids.

Akira opened his mouth to brag about his styling skills for the third time, but Ryuji was quicker, facing him with sudden scrutiny. “So hey. Did you spend all of yesterday with _Akechi?”_

Akira instantly turned to Futaba, who shrugged. “He asked.”

Akira sighed before giving Ryuji what he hoped was a smile that would simultaneously placate and charm. “Well, yes.”

Ryuji threw his hands up in the air. “Dude, what the shit?!”

Akira wasn’t exactly keen on having the same conversation he’d had with Futaba again. “Okay, it’s–”

Before he could continue, Futaba poked him hard in the arm.

“Ow–”

“Turn around,” she hissed.  

Akira turned. And… there was Goro, who had seen him, too, and was quickly approaching.

Akira’s first thought was _finally._ His second was _Wow._ Goro’s buttoned suit jacket was red-violet, with a striped tie and light-colored dress shirt underneath; the whole ensemble was definitely turning heads. Clothes aside, Akira’s found himself focusing on just how well Goro fit in them. _Okay, I’m not gonna get caught checking him out._ Akira redirected his attention towards Goro’s face, only to see that Goro’s eyes, too, had conspicuously fallen on Akira’s figure. Now _that_ felt good. Akira smiled triumphantly to himself. _I really do look great in a suit._

And then Goro had stopped in front of him, eyes crinkling a little in the beginnings of a smile. “Akira.” After a pause, he added, “You look nice.”

“Hey,” Akira said, a rushed exhale more than it was a clear word. “You too.”

Standing there, Goro was seemingly unaffected by the slow movement of others into the pews, even though Akira had been elbowed three times by at least two different elderly people already. Akira envied how he was somehow able to float above it all, as usual.

“So I was looking for you earlier,” Akira revealed.

“Were you?” Goro didn’t seem displeased, so that was a good sign. “I had some work to do, so I’m afraid I spent most of the day in my room. I hope you weren’t too disappointed.” That last comment was punctuated with just the barest shadow of a smirk.

“Yeah, well…” Akira’s eyes were peeled for any signs of a shift in Goro’s behavior. He wanted clues– any indicator that something really had changed since that boat ride, that the distance between them was no longer as uncomfortable or oppressive. And the best way to do that was to be honest. “I didn’t really have anything to talk about. Just wanted to see you.”

“Oh,” said Goro, with a hint of surprise. Akira looked closely for a tell. As he watched, Goro’s eyes slid elsewhere– but the half-smile that had been present since the beginning of their conversation seemed to enhance, very slightly, and from that Akira knew at once that Goro was pleased. He allowed himself for a moment to indulge in the fantasy of that smile, because Goro really was so attractive when he looked like that, with the sharp edges smoothed into something softer and newer– and if Akira was indulging himself, which he was, he thought he could pick out the promise of something in Goro’s expression.

He’d been worried that he’d just imagined smoothing things over with Goro– it all seemed a little surreal in retrospect, anyway, the little trip they’d taken, the things they’d said, the strange mystique of it– who was to say it hadn’t been a dream? But here they were, and Goro was actually happy to see him. Knowing that made Akira feel giddy in the same sugary, ridiculous way as a teenager with a crush.

Goro’s eyes turned to meet Akira’s again, and for a moment, they just looked at each other. Akira’s head swam with things to say, but something was holding him back from getting any of the words out. He shifted a little awkwardly as he tried to think of a next move, Goro’s eyes never leaving his face all the while. But before he could do anything, he heard Ryuji say pointedly “Hey, Akechi.”

“...Oh,” Goro said, starting a little and turning to Ryuji. He looked for all the world as if he was seeing him for the first time. “Hello, Sakamoto. And Sakura,” he added, looking at Futaba. He smiled at them, but it was a far cry from the way he’d looked at Akira, and the awareness of that made Akira feel sharply smug.

“Didn’t see us there?” Futaba said quietly. Light hitting her glasses momentarily obscured her eyes from view, but the smirk on her face said it all.

“So,” Ryuji said, crossing his arms. “You and Akira had fun yesterday, huh?”

Goro raised his eyebrows before he tucked a short strand of hair behind his ear. “I suppose we did, yes. Venice has much to offer, and the two of us found ourselves in a position to spend some time exploring. A change of scenery always does one good. I trust you’ve been having a nice time as well?”

“I have, actually.”

“If being Kitagawa’s errand boy counts.” That was, of course, from Futaba.

Ryuji sputtered and whipped around to face her. “Can you–”

“Well,” said Goro primly, “I should find my seat. I hope you all enjoy the ceremony. You two look very nice,” he added, looking first at Futaba with real approval, and then at Ryuji with a glance that indicated general apathy. He turned back to Akira. “I’ll see you at the reception, then?”

“Yeah,” Akira said. “For sure.”  

“Well, then,” Goro said in farewell, and left to take a seat.

“Ha,” Futaba said to Akira, when Goro was out of earshot. “Did you see how he was looking at you? Even I could pick that up, and I can barely read regular social cues.”

“ _I_ saw. That was gross. I just don’t get the appeal,” grouched Ryuji. “You already broke up with him once, Akira. Do you just want to get in his pants, or what?”

“Oh, shut up.” Akira rubbed the back of his neck. “Look, I think he’s a good person and I just want to get to know him again. Is that a crime?”

“I can’t get over how differently he’s treating you now. I guess there really is something warm and fuzzy underneath that ice-prince exterior. Just needed you to unlock it.” Futaba raised a hand to her chin in contemplation. “Hey, Ryuji, imagine if Akira and Ann both married lawyers.”

“Oh, God,” Ryuji moaned despairingly.

“All right, calm down,” Akira cut in. “Nobody’s getting married. I mean–” He glanced at the front of the church. “ _I’m_ not getting married. Let’s go sit down, okay?"

They filed into the third row of seats, Futaba first, then Akira, then Ryuji. They were among the last to sit down, but the church, tiny as it was, still seemed a little vacant; the smallness of the wedding party was made all the more evident by the rows of empty pews. Akira could see Goro sitting ahead of them on the other side, looking forward.

Akira glanced at his back for a moment before averting his gaze. He’d never really liked having to look at the back of Goro’s head. It felt like he’d done it all too often– back in class at school, or… all throughout their relationship, really.

If he never got to know Goro again, would those be the strongest memories he’d have of him, until the thought of him eventually faded from Akira’s mind? Visions of Goro turned away, always a few steps ahead, until his presence seemed to cease to matter at all?

Akira was torn from his thoughts by the sudden sound of music, a deep and vibrant harmony of soaring strings that filled the church.

“Oh!” Futaba tugged at his arm. “It’s happening!”

There was a general sound of people moving around as the wedding guests turned to gaze at the entrance to the chapel. Akira’s heart started to beat a little faster, and he found himself unconsciously holding his breath as he, too, craned his neck for a better view.

And then there she was– Ann, his best friend, looking as if she were gliding rather than walking into the chapel as the processional song played on. Her back straight and her head raised, she was holding tightly to her father’s arm, smiling a little nervously as she approached the front of the room, taking the opportunity to survey the crowd. Wearing a sleeveless white dress with a long trail, she looked as if she was born to wear it– as if she had always been destined to live this day. Then again, most clothes looked that way on Ann.

She caught Akira’s eye, her eyes softening, and the smile on his face somehow grew even wider until it felt like his mouth was going to be torn in half. The feeling of love that overcame him suddenly was overwhelming– for Ann, for his friends next to him, for the good of everything in all of their lives, because Akira was convinced that the world would be compelled to reciprocate however much love was directed towards it. It was moments like these that made him hope beyond hope that that kind of driving force really did exist. Because the people he loved, and all of the people they held dear, deserved a world where Ann and Makoto could grow old together, where friends could stay friends, and everyone knew they had a place they belonged. It was so often hard to conceive of a world like that, but in these kinds of moments, it was almost easy to imagine.

Ann and her father reached the front of the church and stood to one side. Everyone turned back to look at the entrance once more, and a moment later Makoto entered the room, escorted by her sister. Wearing a long-sleeved, white dress, with the part above her waist made of delicate lace, she was just as much of a vision as her soon-to-be wife, exuding an uncommon, striking sort of poise. As his eyes darted between her and Ann, Akira found himself remembering, strangely, something Ryuji had said a few days earlier– right after he’d taken the brunt of Ann’s punch during the aikido lesson, and Makoto had demonstrated her own skill at the sport. _Those two are dangerous,_ he’d remarked. Suddenly, Akira understood the true meaning of the term _power couple._

Makoto’s face looked a little wry at first, as if she couldn’t really understand how she’d gotten where she was, but when her eyes fell on Ann at the front of the room her expression changed, morphing into a ebullient smile, and Akira saw her grip around Sae’s arm tighten. The two sisters turned to look at each other with affection for just a moment before Makoto turned to face forwards again, attention now held wholly by Ann. All the guests watched them watch each other, and Akira could see Ann’s shoulders tense, just a little, the breath she appeared to be holding drawing her body up as if a string from the sky was tugging at her spine, her yearning to be close to Makoto as visibly obvious as the blondeness of her hair.

Makoto and Sae stopped when they were close to the pulpit. Sae approached Ann, and they bowed to each other. Akira could see both of them smile– even Sae looked gratified, and Akira hoped Ann could see that– could see that Sae might just appreciate her after all. Makoto and Ann’s father bowed to each other in turn, and then he and Sae moved to take their seats in the front row of pews.

Ann and Makoto took a few steps closer to stand at the pulpit. Ann held out her hands for Makoto’s, who grasped hers in turn. They smiled at each other, and Makoto closed her eyes for just a moment before taking a breath. Ann took the opportunity to turn her head just slightly to the side, regarding the guests for a second. It was only for a brief moment, but Akira could tell what was meant by the look on her face: pride. She might as well have been saying _Hey, everyone, thanks for coming, and sorry you don’t get to marry my hot almost-wife._

In the next moment her eyes were on Makoto again, and the priest smiled jovially at both of them. And then he began to speak.

It took a second to process, but Akira quickly came to the realization he wasn’t going to be able to understand the address.

“Seriously?” Futaba whispered, slinking in her chair. “It’s in Italian?”

Despite the fact that he was sure no one could understand what the priest was saying, the rest of the wedding guests were giving him their utmost attention, leaning forward and looking serious.

“I think everyone is just pretending they’re getting anything out of this,” Akira mumbled to Futaba.

The priest soon began to read from a Bible, voice raised and tone a little sanctimonious for effect. Akira supposed that a Bible reading no one could comprehend was fitting for what was effectively a non-religious ceremony inside of a church. After another minute, he appeared to end his spiel. Everyone applauded politely.

Okumura, sitting in the first row, rose and walked over. She was dressed in pink, and the billowy sleeves of her dress seemed to give a peppy quality to her movement. She beamed at the priest, and they appeared to exchange a few words before he went to stand to the side and Okumura took his place at the pulpit.

She looked around at the guests. “Hello, everyone,” she said, back straight and high voice raised. She smiled as she added, “I would like to thank the priest for that moving recitation."

“Whatever it was,” Futaba murmured.

“And on behalf of the brides and their families, I also wish to extend my sincerest thanks to all of you for being here today. For those who don’t know me, my name is Haru Okumura. I’m honored to call both Ann and Makoto my dear friends.” She looked down at some notes on the pew; they must have been placed there beforehand.  “I met both of the brides at the same time, just before they began their relationship, so I’m in a unique position: I was able to get to know the two of them at the same time they were getting to know each other. I saw them turn from making excuses just to be around each other–” she giggled– “to dating, and then learning each other’s habits and quirks. I remember how thrilled Ann was the first time she rode on Makoto’s motorcycle, and Makoto’s happiness when Ann surprised her with flowers for her birthday.”

“Did she just say _motorcycle_?” Ryuji whispered.

“When Ann and Makoto first met, they couldn’t have been more different, but they were drawn to each other. I know Makoto found herself captivated by Ann’s energy and her compassion, and Ann spoke endlessly of Makoto’s warmth and devotion to helping others. It wasn’t long before the both of them knew that they didn’t want to spend their lives with anyone else.”

 _Knew,_ Akira thought. What would it be like, to have that kind of confidence?

“It was Makoto who spent hours in talks with her friends, wringing her hands over how to propose, but Ann who made the split-second decision to bring Makoto with her to a routine modeling shoot in Paris– and turn it into the perfect opportunity to ask the most important question of both their lives. Makoto’s answer, since you’re all here today, was obvious.” Okumura smiled. “I’ve loved Venice since I was a girl, and after I convinced them to visit for a weekend, Makoto and Ann fell in love with this island, too. Since then it’s been a whirlwind of planning and preparing, all for the few days we’ve been able to share here with the happy couple. They bring out the best in each other, as anyone close to them knows. I’m sure everyone here will join me in wishing them a bright future in each other’s company.”

She paused and wiped a little at her eyes before beaming. “My appreciation for the friendship Ann and Makoto have shown me, and the extent of their love for each other, is more than I can put into words. I can only say, over and over, how happy I am that I’ve been able to share this day with them. And now, before I translate for the priest, I would like to introduce Goro Akechi, Makoto’s close friend and someone I’ve been privileged to grow acquainted with as well. He will be reading a poem chosen by the brides.”  

 _Goro?_ For some reason, Akira felt he should have been told about this beforehand, but now he could only watch as Goro rose and took Okumura’s place at the pulpit, producing a sheet of paper from the pocket of his suit and smoothing it out.

There was a moment of expectant silence, and then Goro began. “With careful steps, we make the walk of life…”  

As he listened to Goro, Akira could understand why Ann and Makoto had wanted him to read. He was still skilled at the art of speech, still had that way of drawing the attention of a room, by way of a voice that was at once commanding and elegant. But there was more than just stately eloquence in the way he read aloud– there was fondness there, too, in the way his eyes flickered to Makoto, evident pride in the way he regarded her. A sudden surge of emotion hit Akira without warning, because it was suddenly so easy to tell he loved Makoto, just like how Akira loved Ann, and seeing Goro love someone made Akira all the more desperate to know him, to have the chance to draw out that depth of feeling from him again.

“...hope, overcoming all violence, granting us longed-for grace...” Goro was saying.

Akira found he was unconsciously digging his nails into his knee, and had to stop himself.

“...and let love’s call lead us forward, filling our lives with color, our hearts with joy.” At that, Goro felt silent, and gave the guests a polished smile before retreating and returning to his seat. In the small gap of silence that happened afterwards, Akira reflected upon the fact that Goro hadn’t looked at him, not once.

The priest took his place at the pulpit, Haru beside him. Akira remembered her mentioning translating the formal part of the ceremony– it seemed reasonable that she’d know some Italian if she’d come here so often– and supposed now was the time. Ryuji sat up a little straighter beside him. Futaba leaned forward, too. Throughout the chapel, there was a sense of tense anticipation. Ann and Makoto took each other’s hands.

The priest waited a moment, before taking a breath and saying… something.

“It is now time to state your vows,” Okumura translated. “Ann, please repeat after me.”

What followed was a somewhat confusing sequence of the priest saying something, Okumura translating it, and Ann repeating the words. It was no less complicated when Makoto did the same thing. _Kinda nice, though_ , Akira reflected. _Really hammers home that they’re getting married._

After the vows, Okumura spoke for the priest again. “Ann, do you take Makoto to be your wife?”

“Yes.” Ann nodded quickly for emphasis. “I do.”

The priest said something else.

“Makoto, do you take Ann to be your wife?” Okumura asked.

“I do.” Makoto’s smile was as warm as Akira had ever seen it.

“Please exchange your wedding rings,” Okumura said after the priest had spoken.

Ann’s father came forward and handed her a ring, head bowed slightly. Sae did the same for Makoto. Ann and Makoto stepped closer to each other, and the guests watched with rapt attention as the two brides placed their wedding rings on each other’s fingers with a tender air.

The priest looked from Ann to Makoto and smiled before saying something else, with an air of finality.

Okumura beamed, clasping her hands together. “Let it be witnessed that today, in the presence of the people you hold most dear, the two of you affirmed your lasting commitment to each other. By the power vested in me, I now pronounce the two of you bound in marriage and eternal love. And now...” she giggled. “You know what to do!”

Ann and Makoto looked at each other with slightly timid smiles before coming closer and sharing a kiss.

The guests erupted in a round of spontaneous applause. To Akira’s slight chagrin, Ryuji whooped, though the rest of the guests seemed just as excited. The mostly-empty church seemed significantly more full with the energy that the small crowd exuded.

With the mirth came also a sense of what was almost relief, a palpable change in the atmosphere. Voices rose and people began to stand. Ann and Makoto looked a little like a load had been taken off their shoulders, less straight-backed and formal and more giddy, with Ann’s arm in Makoto’s and the sound of her voice, unmistakable in its joy, ringing throughout the chapel. A few moments later, the small crowd of guests parted to let Ann and Makoto through towards the exit. People clapped for them some more, and Akira raised his camera, taking shot after shot of the newlyweds smiling and looking at the crowd and each other.

When they reached the doors, Makoto raised her hand. “We’ll see you at the reception! Thank you!”

With that, they were out of sight, and Akira was left with the strange feeling that it had all happened so fast.

“Wow,” Ryuji said, echoing his feelings.

Akira laughed, hearing his own incredulity in it. “Yeah.”

They were silent for a moment, even as the rest of the guests clamored and spoke amongst each other.

“You know something?” Futaba said suddenly.

Akira turned to her. “What?”

Futaba smiled a little, and then shook her head. “We’re both in Tokyo still, but I didn’t even know Ann’s address before this. I can barely remember the last time we hung out. And I’m partially at fault for that. I should’ve kept in touch.”

“Me, too,” Akira admitted.

Futaba folded her arms. “It’s not gonna be like that now. I’m gonna make sure to bother Ann whenever I can, whether she likes it or not! Friends like her don’t come by easily. In fact–” She turned to Akira, determination set on her face, before gesturing towards the doors of the church. “This just now was the last time we let Ann walk away from us, okay? Not gonna happen anymore.”

Akira smiled at her. “Okay. You’re right. This is Ann’s big day, but it can be a beginning for all of us.”

Futaba nodded firmly. “Right. And now… we have Makoto, too.”

“Yeah.” Akira grinned again. “And she’s great. You know, I think everything’s gonna be just fine.”

“It will be.” Futaba crossed her arms, and the resolve in her voice and expression was evident. Akira pulled her closer and wrapped her in a hug, refusing to let go despite her protests.

The hotel was just a few minutes’ walk from the church, which made returning for the reception easy. When Akira, Futaba and Ryuji reached the entrance to the banquet hall, they noticed people examining a sign propped up on an easel near the door.

Akira stepped closer to get a better view and raised his eyebrows when he saw what the fuss was about. He glanced over his shoulder at Futaba and Ryuji. “It’s a seating chart,” he reported.

There weren’t many tables set up for the small crowd, but every seat had been neatly labelled with a person’s name. Akira scanned the images for a second before he saw his own.

“Hey, let me see.” Futaba deftly maneuvered past another guest and stood on tiptoe to get a better look at the sign. “Oh– there we are. Table four.” Instead of entering, though, she turned to face Akira and Ryuji. “Well… see you guys soon.”

“So you’re helping in the kitchen?” Ryuji put his hands behind his head.

Futaba nodded. “Yeah.” She’d told Akira about the results of her conversation with Okumura earlier– though Okumura had been, apparently, flabbergasted when hit with the news that Morgana was Morgana and also Futaba’s cat, she’d recovered quickly, telling Futaba she wasn’t upset with her at all and cheerfully accepting her offer of help. Akira had given silent thanks for the resolution of the matter.

“I think Okumura’ll be inside,” Futaba continued. “I told her she should at least get to sit through the reception. I’ll be there after dinner’s served.”

“Good luck.” Ryuji held out his fist.

“Thanks,” Futaba said with a half-grin. She and Ryuji performed a solemn fist-bump.

“Bye, nerds,” Futaba said with a wave, and was gone.

“Alright. She said four?” Ryuji said. When Akira nodded, he stretched his arms over his head, not even sparing the chart a glance as he headed inside. “Let’s go, Akira.”

“Right,” Akira said, but he lingered, still looking at the sign. Next to his, Ryuji’s, and Futaba’s names, there were three more: Haru Okumura, Yusuke Kitagawa, and… Goro Akechi.

He rubbed the back of his head and shrugged to himself before entering the hall. It would be interesting to see how this played out.

* * *

Akira put a lot of pride in how he and Goro managed to stay in sync. After all, it wasn’t easy to pay heed to each others’ differences, especially when there were so many of them. But they were managing to stay understanding of one another, even as Akira entered his third year and the prospect of Goro’s graduation loomed ever-closer.

It was something Akira would prefer not to think about– but Goro was fixated on the topic. He’d talk often, to Akira, about the future, with a kind of energy that would probably be indecipherable to anyone who didn’t know him as intimately, a level of barely-decipherable fervor in his speech. He always spoke hard words, mentioned things concrete, about this program or another and how many years it would all take and internships and firms. Each possibility was carefully weighed against the others, each pro and con duly noted.

There was no way he would say it, not when it was so important to Goro, but it made little sense to Akira.

“What if what you end up choosing doesn’t work out?”

The campus shuttle, as usual, was cramped. They’d gotten on it after walking over to the closest stop from where they’d had lunch. The train would have been easier, but the shuttle, mercifully, was free.

Akira had been turning over the question in his mind since they’d left the restaurant and Goro had finished outlining more reasons why his first pick for law school was the best option. It wasn’t the best time to ask, though. The air in the shuttle bus was dense with chatter, and sweat- it was midsummer, and the heat made the atmosphere even more oppressive. Two guys in front of him were having a loud conversation about a movie they’d seen. Pushing past him, a short girl nearly stepped on his foot, not bothering to apologize. Akira winced.

As for Goro, the lack of room had placed him right in front of Akira, holding onto a strap with a world-weary air. Akira could only see the back of Goro’s head, and there was really no way to tell how he was reacting to the question from staring at his hair.

“Are you losing your faith in me? That won’t do, Akira.” His tone was at that special halfway point between good-naturedly sarcastic and bitterly sardonic that Akira had come to recognize and slightly fear.

“Hey, if there’s anyone who can make a life plan and somehow manage to follow it to the letter, it’s you. I just think you shouldn’t be… so focused on everything going the way you specifically want it to go.”

“Hm.” The shuttle bus ground to a halt, and Akira tightened his grip on the pole he was holding onto. The doors opened, and the rush of people going out and in was enough to overwhelm. Akira leaned closer to Goro, trying not to be crushed, and rested his head on Goro’s shoulder. Goro sighed and stretched out his hand for Akira’s. They intertwined their fingers, remaining steady even as the bus began to move once more.

Since Goro, uncharacteristically, didn’t seem to want to say anything further than _Hm_ , Akira added into his ear, “You should always be able to adapt, right? I just mean–”

“I’m tired of having to adapt,” Goro interrupted curtly.

Akira fell silent.

Goro spoke again, more softly this time. “I’m tired of… clawing my way upwards, as it were. I don’t think it’s too much to ask for something to go according to plan.”

“It’s not always a bad thing to let go a little more,” Akira tried. “Could be fun, even.”

“It isn’t exactly fun,” Goro said, “to make compromises, when you’ve had to your whole life.”

With another lurch and stutter, the shuttle ground to a stop again. The doors opened, and Goro let go of Akira’s hand. They’d gotten to their stop.  

In sync– that was the way they worked together. Or the way they were supposed to be working. It was a bit of a blow to Akira’s pride when, a little less than a month later, he realized the most contact he’d had with Goro for a while was an excruciatingly prolonged game of phone tag.

He’d started to see Goro less. It was understandable. Akira was aware that he had things to do, needed to work on his thesis, needed to meet with so-and-so to practice networking, that act that was so foreign to Akira, needed to–

Akira locked his phone and fell backwards on his bed with a sigh. He’d thought they were far past the part of their relationship that involved waiting for calls or messages, but it seemed that wasn’t the case. He had a missed call from Goro from when he’d been in class, and another from when he’d been studying with a friend. And Akira had called Goro three times today, with no result. Not even the voicemail he’d left– “It’s your boyfriend, pay attention to me”– had made a difference.

After a short while of staring at his ceiling, sleep, aided by boredom, eventually overtook Akira. He was just making out the shape of a dream in the depths of his subconscious– something to with another world that lay underneath the subway– when he was jolted awake by his ringtone.

Shaking away the vestiges of his dream, he turned to his side, frowning at the place on the floor where his phone was charging. Leaning over, he fumbled blindly for it before answering the call and holding it up to his ear. Voice groggy, he said, wearily, “Hello?”

“Akira.” Goro sounded perfectly composed. “Can you talk?”

“What– time is it?”

“Just past midnight. Sorry. I thought you might be awake.”

“I’m… well, I am now.” Akira sat up and pinched the bridge of his nose. Whatever pleasure he got from hearing Goro’s voice was dampered by the fact that he found himself slightly annoyed by the fact that his sleep had been interrupted. And that there seemed to be no real remorse in Goro’s voice. Okay, he was significantly annoyed.

“I just finished up with everything. But the day I had–” Goro sighed over the phone, a rush of static. “My advisor didn’t bother contacting me about a deadline, so I’m having to rectify that, even though it shouldn’t fall on my shoulders. And then–”

“Goro,” Akira cut in.

“Yes?”

Grogginess made words fall from Akira’s mouth without much consideration. “Don’t… do this.”

There were a few seconds of silence, and then: “Do what?”

“You know I’m… always there for you, but don’t…” He could hear how clumsy he sounded, but he pressed on. “We can talk… whenever. You should know that. Not just when you want to get something off your chest.”

It was one of those feelings that didn’t make its existence clear until it manifested in words. Akira was almost surprised by what he was saying.

Hadn’t it been that way, though, lately? The strange urgency in Goro’s voice when they spoke, the way he seemed to need Akira to affirm him– not to offer advice or opinions, just… say yes. He’d never really found anything wrong with taking on that role– of the person who pulled Goro out of his own head. But now it seemed almost shallow. As if he was just there to listen and nod. 

“...I’m aware of that.” Goro sounded a little surprised. “That hasn’t been my intention. I apologized for the time, but I thought–”

“It’s not just about the time. I called you three times today.”

Another short silence. “I’m sorry, but I didn’t– I’m calling you back now. ”

“Well, yeah, but– I’ve barely seen you at all lately. Do you seriously not have any spare time?”

The pauses before Goro’s responses kept getting longer. Finally, he said, “Is this really all you’re bothered about?”

“...What?”

“Lately, things like this keep happening. It’s as if you’re becoming more upset with me, more easily. I don’t–” And then there was another few seconds of silence before Goro’s voice changed, shifted into something cool, a facsimile of composure. “Never mind. I’m sure I’m simply imagining things. Don’t worry about it.”

Something threatened to register in his head and send him back in time to review all of his past behavior, to make him consider the possible validity of Goro’s words, but he waved it aside, sitting up in a rush of frustration. “No, don’t– Can you just say what you mean, please?”

“I’m–”

“I don’t want to have to constantly try and figure out what you’re really saying from what you’re not telling me.”

Goro’s huff of breath over the phone sounded, in equal parts, petulant and righteously indignant. “I’m having trouble understanding what you actually want from me, Akira. If there’s something you need–”

“I don’t _need_ you _–”_

Words kept tumbling out of his mouth. It was the worst possible time to stop talking, but Akira did anyway, because what he’d been about to say was probably worse.

_You need me._

He felt, suddenly, a rush of shame wash over him.

There was no denying it– he’d liked that he was Goro’s little reprieve from the world. It had made him feel good, to be needed. Goro had let him in. He was special. Was that was what driving this? Something like self-loathing stuck in his throat. He’d taken a misplaced, twisted sort of pride in the fact that Goro relied on him, and now he was complaining about it?

“...Right.” The abrupt coldness of Goro’s voice let Akira know just how badly he’d fucked up. “I appreciate your making that clear. I think I’ll let you get back to sleep, then.”

“Goro, I–”

“I’ll call you again when I get a chance. Good night.”

When the call dropped, Akira was left staring at his phone again, and this time, it felt vastly worse.

* * *

Akira followed Ryuji inside. The banquet hall was just as beautiful as it was when he’d been here earlier, with the artfully arranged ribbons and flowers, though the lighting was different– dark enough to give the room more of a party vibe. He could see the edge of their table a few feet away, but before he was able to tell if anyone else was already seated there, he was startled by someone stepping in front of him.

“Kurusu,” said Sae.

Akira still wasn’t sure what it was about Makoto’s sister that made him feel underdressed and small. He tried to draw himself up to compensate. “Ah, hello.”

Sae cocked her head and regarded him for a second before remarking, with apparent satisfaction, “You look nice.”

It was just the same as the way Goro had appraised Ryuji and Futaba– he really had learned from Sae. Relieved, Akira said “Oh, thanks. And congratulations.”

“Thank you. As it happens, I thought I should ask you about your speech.”

Akira opened his mouth and closed it again. “Sorry, my what?”

“Did you not have one prepared?” Sae arched an eyebrow. “I suppose I simply assumed you would. I’m aware that Ann’s father is giving a toast– it seems right that one of her close friends do her the honor as well. I don’t see why you shouldn’t take up the mantle. Unless Sakamoto or Sakura are interested?”

Akira thought of Ryuji, who wasn’t great under pressure, and then Futaba, who... well, it was Futaba. He shook his head. “I don’t think so. But yeah, I mean– I can do it. Improvise, you know. No problem.”

“All right, if you’re sure,” Sae said. She leaned closer. “And I’d advise you to take this seriously.”

She might as well have added _young man_ at the end. Akira gulped and nodded. “Of course.”

It was actually nice of Sae, Akira thought, to make sure of this for Ann, even though she probably just wanted to make a good impression on the guests. He thought about Ann’s wariness, and then of the smile she and Sae had given each other at the ceremony. Maybe things had gotten a little better between them.

“Those earrings Ann was wearing,” Akira tried. “You got them for her, right? They’re beautiful.”

“Oh– yes.” Sae looked a little surprised, but her lips curled up in a barely-there smile. “She does look very nice in them, doesn’t she?”

Akira grinned.

“I’ll leave you to it,” Sae said, removing her phone from her purse. “I need to make a call. As for your speech, you’ll be making it right after Ann’s parents.”

“Right.”

“Goodbye, then.” Turning on her heels, Sae walked away.

When Akira got to his table, he found Okumura chatting pleasantly with Ryuji. He took a seat, giving a half-wave when they looked up to acknowledge him. “Hey, guys.”

“Hello, Kurusu!” Okumura was as cordial as always.

“Yo,” said Ryuji, resting his chin in his hand. “Where’d you go off to?”

“Oh, yeah. I ran into Sae. She basically told me to give a speech.”

“Seriously?” Ryuji questioned. “D’you even have anything prepared?”

“Well, no. But I’ll be fine.” Akira waved a hand. “I’m good at these things.”

“Kurusu,” Okumura said suddenly. Akira turned to her. She was looking at him with a new expression, a kind of amusement that seemed a little devious. “I had quite the conversation with Futaba just a little while ago.”

 _A first-name basis?_ “I heard about it. I’m glad she told you about Mona. Our cat, I mean.”

“Hm… so it was your kitty as well? How long did you know about his presence here, I wonder?”

Akira sputtered. “Well, I wasn’t sure until right before I asked Futaba, and I wanted to make sure, so–”

Okumura giggled, cutting him off. “It’s all right, Kurusu– I’m simply joking around. I understand, and there was no real damage done in the end. And Futaba introduced us!”

“Introduced.. you and Mona?”

“Yes! He’s an adorable little cat. And quite smart, too, to be able to evade my staff and I! I think we became good friends.”

Akira relaxed and smiled. “That’s good to hear.”

They made conversation for another few minutes until a long shadow fell over the table and Akira looked up.

It was Kitagawa, looking, somehow, even taller than usual, and a little haggard, as if he hadn’t slept in a long while. He probably hadn’t. Despite it all, his double-breasted, deep-blue suit looked immaculate. “Greetings, everyone.”

“Hey! Did you finish your painting?” Ryuji asked.

“Yes,” Kitagawa said, in his usual detached way. They waited for him to elaborate, but instead he glanced at the table full of empty plates and frowned. “Are none of you aware that appetizers are currently being served?”

“Oh, that’s right!” Okumura exclaimed. “They should have started a few minutes ago.”

“At last,” Kitagawa said, picking up the plate at his place. There was a steely determination in his eyes. “Now, I may reap the reward for my toil. Come, Kurusu.” He turned without waiting for a response.

“Huh? I… okay.” Akira quickly got up from his chair and followed.

At the appetizers table, Kitagawa didn’t just stock his own plate with food– he somehow managed to commandeer Akira’s. He found himself scrambling to follow instructions as Kitagawa directed him to take helpings of sushi, various vegetables, and more finger food that looked too fancy for Akira to properly identify.

“Do you always go this hard?” Akira said, struggling to hold onto the looming tower of food on his plate.

“Only after I have completed a project,” Kitagawa said briskly, before adding, “And when the available food in question is free of charge.”

When they had stocked up on enough provisions to last until well after the reception ended, Akira and Kitagawa headed back to the table. The journey wasn’t easy, as Akira found himself constantly swerving to avoid running into someone, all while keeping his grip on the plate. With the load he was carting, it seemed evident that just a small touch could lead to an apocalyptic culinary disaster. As Akira struggled, Kitagawa moved through the crowd like a bulldozer, holding his head high and hitting anyone who dared to block his path with a cutting stare that had them scrambling to get out of his way. Akira gulped and tried not to get caught in the line of fire. The true power of a starving artist really was fearsome to behold.

He was so focused on the food, he almost forgot to look in front of him. But a reminder eventually came when he was almost at his table and he nearly tripped over someone else’s feet– only to be steadied by a hand reaching out to grab his arm. Swearing under his breath, Akira looked up to see who the hand belonged to.

Goro didn’t say anything, just raised his eyebrows and glanced at Akira’s plate.

“Oops,” Akira said, getting his bearings. “Sorry.” _This would be a meet-cute, if we didn’t already know each other so well._ Goro’s expression was mostly neutral, but the look in his eyes made it clear he was exceedingly amused by Akira’s gaffe. _Too well, maybe._

Goro released Akira’s arm and eyed his plate. “Is that quite enough food for you? It’s a rather paltry selection.”

“Ha ha. Just… Kitagawa was…” Akira gave up. “Well, I’m getting my money’s worth.” He made to set the plate on the table.

“Allow me to help you with that.” Goro reached out and snatched a piece of sushi off his plate.

“Hey–” Before Akira could protest, Goro had already popped it in his mouth. He could only watch helplessly as Goro thoughtfully devoured _his_ food.

“Delicious.” Goro finally finished chewing and gave him a rare, cocky grin. “Okumura’s judgment is superb.”

Recovering from being momentarily distracted by the way Goro’s tongue had swiped lightning-quick at the tips of his fingers, Akira replied, “You’re lucky I let you get away with that. I don’t let just anyone steal my food.”

“Mm. Am I special, then?”

 _Oh. Okay._ The voice Akira liked so much was honeyed in a way he hadn’t heard in a long while, deliberately phrased in a way that didn’t detract from its charm. If he gave it enough time, Akira was sure the siren’s call of that pretty, pretty voice would make short work of luring him overboard. Though maybe drowning wouldn’t be so bad if it was Goro who’d be waiting for him, just beneath those choppy waters.

...Oh, great. His thoughts were heading in a problematic direction again. And a cheesy one. _Sirens? Seriously?_ He tried to clear his head, but it was impossible not to match Goro’s tone in response. He leaned a little closer, just enough until he could hear Goro draw his breath. “Well, that depends on–”

“Ah _-hem_.”

They both turned towards Ryuji’s voice. He was giving them an irked stare. Okumura was leaning forward, looking very interested. As for Kitagawa, he had seated himself and was busy eating, not sparing either Akira or Goro a glance.

“Ah, Sakamoto,” Goro said with manufactured cheeriness. “How nice–”

“Yeah, yeah,” Ryuji muttered.

Goro turned to Kitagawa and Okumura, and they exchanged greetings.

“It seems I’m in good company.” He looked back at Akira and smirked. “And Akira’s.”

“Hey, watch your mouth,” Akira said, taking a seat next to Ryuji. _And what a pretty mouth it is,_ his brain helpfully supplied. _Shut up_ , he advised it in return.

“Are you two gonna keep doing that… thing… the whole night?” Ryuji whisper-hissed to him when he sat down. “‘Cause I can find another table.”

“Can you, though?” Akira replied, looking down to hide his grin as he pulled his chair closer.

There was a short lull before they heard a clamor from near the entrance. Everyone turned in their seats, and after the door opened, they witnessed Ann and Makoto enter the room amidst friendly, welcoming applause from the guests.

They’d changed again– they were really pulling out all the stops for this. This time Ann’s dress was a pale lilac. Makoto, on the other hand, was wearing an all-black suit with a thin white tie, and pulling it off ridiculously well. Akira made sure to catch a glimpse of the wedding rings on each of their right hands.

Both Ann and Makoto stopped to greet people as they made their way to their seats. When they passed Akira’s table, Makoto rushed over to Goro and Okumura while Ann immediately enveloped Ryuji and Akira in a swift, tight hug.

“Can’t breathe,” Akira managed after a moment. Ann released him, laughing and kissing his cheek before wordlessly moving away again.

After Ann and Makoto sat down at the small table set up for them near the front,

Ann immediately stood up again, almost knocking over the vase of flowers on the table in the process as the room quieted with expectation of a speech. “Oops,” she said, laughing with good cheer rather than chagrin, and Makoto only shook her head before smiling. Akira got a picture of the little glance they shared.

“So!” Ann said, taking a little breath before she faced the guests with a smile. “Before anything else, I’d like to thank everyone once again for sharing this day with us. I know it was difficult for some of you to get here, but it means so much that you all made the effort. I hope you were able to enjoy yourselves during this trip. Just like Haru said earlier, Makoto and I fell in love with Venice, and we hope all of you have been able to feel that love too!”

She turned to glance at Makoto, who rose as well. “Ann and I knew we wanted to have our wedding here, and we haven’t regretted it once. You’ve all made it such a pleasant experience with your support– not just easier, but infinitely better. We’re very happy and grateful– so once again, thank you.”

Both Ann and Makoto bowed to the guests, and then looked to each other with a smile.

After that, it was time for speeches. First up was Sae, who spoke about how she and Makoto had grown up. Akira was sure there was no shortage of teary eyes in the room when her voice lowered as she added, “And if my mother and father were here today, I know they would be more proud of my little sister than either of us are even able to imagine.” Akira saw Ann’s hand grasp Makoto’s from where it was lying on the table.

Makoto’s boss gave a short toast as well, during which Akira found his attention wandering. He ended up playing tic-tac-toe with Ryuji on a napkin, deciding to ignore Goro’s palpable disapproval from across the table. But both he and Ryuji looked up immediately when Makoto’s boss introduced the next speaker and Kitagawa briskly stood up.

“Kitagawa’s speaking?” Ryuji gaped, unnecessarily.  

Indeed he was. Kitagawa turned to face Ann and Makoto’s table, and began to talk. His grandiose manner was still a little amusing– Akira noted several sweeping hand gestures– but halfway through his speech, the genuine intent behind his words became clear.

“Makoto is, without a doubt, one of the most important people I have ever known. Never has she denied helping someone who needs support, even when the journey she chooses to take is long and difficult. Through her tenacity and high-mindedness, she has proven herself to not only be a champion of justice in her life’s work, but a loyal friend whose company I treasure. She deserves nothing less than a lifetime of happiness and well-being, around the people who love her most.” With that, he bowed slightly and sat down once more. Akira saw Makoto duck her head and dab at her eyes.

Ann’s father and mother were next, giving a back-and-forth speech that was similar to Sae’s in content, though with some more embarrassing childhood anecdotes– the smile on Ann’s face became slightly more pained the longer they spoke.

And then it was Akira’s turn.

He took a breath before he stood up, briefly glancing at Ryuji, who gave him a thumbs-up, and then Okumura and Goro, who both smiled at him– Goro more so with his eyes.

Encouraged, Akira turned to the guests and began. “I’ve known Ann since we were in high school– and before you ask, she was still just as clumsy as she is now,” Akira said, looking up to meet her eyes across the room. She gave him her best mock-offended expression, and he laughed before returning to his remarks.

The rest of his speech passed smoothly– it was all things he’d already told Ann before, punctuated by some well-placed jokes, most of which ended up earning the requisite amount of laughs. Towards the end, he paused before saying, “If I’d never met Ann, I know my life would have turned out differently– and not in a good way. I’ve never encountered anyone else who has such a positive, inspiring impact on everyone she meets. I know they don’t need luck, but I’m wishing her and Makoto the best for the rest of their life together.” The huge smile Ann gave him from across the room made it all worth it.

Ryuji clapped him on the back as he sat down. “Nice, dude.”

“Shockingly well-spoken,” Goro added.

Akira grinned. “Thanks. Aren’t I good at being charming?”

“You’re just as silver-tongued as always, though I hesitate to ascribe it as a positive trait.”

“Hmm. Someone’s calling the kettle black, don’t you think?”

Goro demurely swept a stray strand of hair back into place. “Touché.”

After that, Okumura’s staff entered the hall and set about preparing for dinner. With them came Futaba, who was truly a sight to behold. Maneuvering between tables effortlessly, she first set about collecting empty appetizer plates, responding to thanks from guests with a brisk nod. After she’d returned from her first trip back to the kitchen, she continued to help by serving plates of food. Despite her dress differentiating her from the rest of the catering staff and the curious looks she drew, she seemed somehow to fit in. It had always been like that for Futaba– once she was absorbed in a task, the impressions of the rest of the world ceased to matter as much.

Akira was distracted from watching her when food was brought to his and the others’ table by another server. Just after everyone had been served, plates set and glasses poured, she appeared suddenly, offering a “Yo.”

“Hey!” Akira turned to her. “Good work out in the field.”

Futaba offered a salute before smiling a quick-half grin and sitting down beside Akira.

“How’re you feeling?”

“I’m fine, actually,” she said, smiling at him. “Thanks. I heard your speeches, by the way,” she said, raising her voice to address both Akira and Kitagawa, so that the latter man looked up. “Nice work, both of you guys.” She squeezed Akira’s shoulder. “You just might bring honor to our family yet!”

“Maybe someday,” Akira reflected, smirking.

Kitagawa bowed his head slightly. “My thanks.”

“So this is what’s for dinner,” Futaba said, squinting at the plate in front of her. “I didn’t even pay attention to what I was serving.”

“On the menu is filet mignon, mango and avocado salad, and fettuccini with a champagne-butter sauce,” Okumura said, leaning forward.

“It looks to be a delightful meal,” Goro said, smiling at her. “You’ve truly outdone yourself.”

“Do you really think so, Akechi?” Okumura said cheerfully. “Or are you only attempting to flatter me?”

It was very interesting to watch Goro’s face try to decide what to do with itself in the moment that followed. Though it was only for a few seconds, Akira could see him veer between a slightly uncomfortable smile, a perturbed glance and a tiny, suspicious frown.

Before it could get too painful to watch, Okumura spoke again. “Oh, relax, Akechi. I only kid!” She smiled. “After all, if you weren’t impressed with the work of my staff and I, you would be the one in error.”

“Obviously,” Goro said smoothly, recovering instantly.

Akira looked over at Okumura, and when their eyes met, he could swear she winked at him.

And so began dinner. It was kind of funny, Akira noticed, how differently everyone at the table approached their food. Ryuji and Kitagawa dove right in. Okumura sat up straight and used her chopsticks with propriety, the very picture of etiquette. And Futaba and Goro ate little. There was something similarly defensive about the way those two handled themselves– her, on guard even in pleasant company, slightly narrowed eyes occasionally flickering from person to person as if she was running an in-depth scan, and him, coolly confident and showing off an unwavering smile, but with a challenge in the way he carried himself, as if he were daring anyone to usurp his place at the table.

 _They might be a little alike,_ Akira thought, and his own musing surprised him.

Goro was presently trying to engage Kitagawa, who was seated next to him, in conversation. It wasn’t easy to hear, but Akira tried to subtly lean forward and listen in.

“...provide any inspiration? A change of scenery seems like it would be fruitful, for someone in your profession,” Goro was saying.

“Certainly. Every place presents a different creative energy, and to be a true artist, one must constantly reshape the way one sees the world,” Kitagawa replied. “I never allow myself to be negligent in this effort.”

“I expect you have a lot in common with Akira in that regard.” Goro’s eyes suddenly bore into Akira’s. He had obviously been caught trying to listen. Well, there was no point denying it. Akira leaned all the way forward, putting both his elbows on the table, and grinned toothily at Goro. Goro rolled his eyes.

“Perhaps,” Kitagawa allowed. “Though I know not of the way Kurusu allows his environment to influence his work.”  

“Of course. I can tell just by looking that you two approach things differently.”

“So, Akechi, can I take it you and Akira are getting along at last?” Okumura asked cheerfully.

Kitagawa spoke up before Goro could reply. “Why would Kurusu and Akechi not get along?”

The whole table turned to him.

“You don’t…?” Ryuji began, then paused, eyes shifting towards Akira.

Kitagawa raised an eyebrow. “Am I missing something?”  

“Well, you see,” Akira said seriously, “many years ago I saved Goro from a deadly combination shark attack-kidnapping, and he just doesn’t know how to repay me yet.”

Goro looked unamused. “If anything, I’d be the one saving you in this scenario.”

“Are the sharks the kidnappers?” Futaba asked, leaning over to steal food off Akira’s plate.

Akira examined his nails. “They’re accessories to the crime.”

“And just where–”

“The sea is a beautiful place,” Kitagawa said suddenly.

They all looked at him again.

“Rarely does one find a more vivid illustration of nature’s awe-inspiring power than one does by the shore,” he continued, unperturbed. “The potential for destruction and the creation of energy in duality… it is truly compelling. Though I must confess that I am more inclined to draw artistic inspiration from aspects of the oceanic ecosystem. For example, I am fond of crustaceans.”

“I’m sorry,” Goro said. “Did you say _crustaceans_?”  

“Lobsters, in particular.”

“Uh, Kitagawa.” Ryuji leaned over. “They’re really just exes, Akechi and Akira. They used to date. In college.”

Kitagawa looked over at Goro, who was gazing back innocently, the hand he was using to prop up his chin covering half of his mouth, and then at Akira, who smiled amiably at him.

“Interesting,” Kitagawa said. He gazed thoughtfully at Akira. “I find myself suddenly eager to examine the photos on the memory card of your camera.”

“Uh, why?” Akira instinctively held his camera closer to himself. _Don’t touch my baby._

“Just as I mentioned, I am curious to ascertain the truth of how your environment impacts your photography.”

“Is that so?” Goro suddenly sounded very attentive.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” Akira said quickly. “Anyway, Okumura, what did you say about this salad?”

They all returned to eating. But to his chagrin, Akira found he couldn’t focus entirely on the food, or even most of the company. And it was all Goro’s fault.

It was bad for Akira’s health to sit directly across from him. Every time Akira looked up, their eyes somehow managed to meet. And instead of looking away, or seeming to steam in irritation as he had just a few short days ago, Goro simply watched him– visibly sizing him up in a way Akira found uniquely thrilling. He didn’t know why he enjoyed being stared at like he was a particularly complicated math problem so much. Maybe it was just nice, to entertain the fantasy that finally it was Goro trying to figure him out instead of the other way around. Maybe it was just because it was sort of hot.

Not even Ryuji’s banter with Kitagawa or Futaba’s chatter could take away from whatever it was that seemed to draw their eyes to each other. And Akira was doing a remarkably poor job of not getting caught looking– because he really was looking, not just into Goro’s eyes but at his lips, his hands, at the subtle way he reacted to table conversation, with little nods or smiles. Something about him seemed to demand Akira’s attention in a new way– a way that he hadn’t felt before their little excursion to Murano. It was only a matter of time before the more impulsive part of Akira’s nature overtook him and he felt the urge to do something about this.

That was the thing with Goro, though– Akira could never be as impulsive as he wanted. He always had to think so much. For once, Akira wanted it to be easy. And maybe just then was the right time, with all the signals it seemed like he was getting and a kind of longing stirring in his subconscious. The thrumming energy under his skin, the kind that had served so far as a warning sign, now seemed as if it was preparing him for something. Nothing seemed like it had changed, but something felt different.

He turned away, deciding to try and focus on something else. As he was busy trying not to look at Goro, he noticed Ann in the corner. She looked to be pushing a few unused tables and chairs around, and was being assisted by a couple of guests.

“What’s going on over there?” Akira said to Ryuji.

“Dunno, man.”

“Want to check it out with me?” Akira rose before Ryuji could reply. He was still being careful not to look at Goro, which was cowardly of him, probably, but he needed a short break from being so close to him. _Before I do something stupid._

Ryuji made a noise of assent, and the two of them went in the direction of the commotion. As they approached, they noticed the area seemed like it was being cleared for people to move around freely.

Ann looked up at them. “Hey, guys!” She was then fiddling with a pair of Bluetooth speakers.

“Hey, newlywed,” Ryuji grinned.

“How’s married life?” Akira smiled at her, too.  

Ann laughed. “The hour of it I’ve experienced so far has been incredible. Aw, and you guys look so nice!” She surveyed them approvingly. “Just adorable.”

“Why do I feel like you’re belittling me?” Ryuji said, sighing.  

“Oh, don’t be a baby. Hey, Akira! Take a picture of us.”

They managed a selfie, despite the shitty lighting. Ann beamed when she saw it. “You have to upload that one.”

“Will do.” Akira put his camera away.

“So what’s going on here?” Ryuji asked.

Ann stretched her arms above her head. “I’m setting up a dance floor! Well, a little one. It’s not exactly planned, but I have a really good playlist and someone had these...” she gestured at the speakers– “so–”

She picked up her phone and poked at the screen. Suddenly, music began to blare through the speakers. Ryuji jumped a little.

“Oh, it’s finally working!” Ann craned her neck in the opposite direction before turning back to them with breathless excitement. “This song was playing when I first met Makoto! At Yusuke’s gallery opening. I’m gonna go get her!” She beamed at them. “My wife. Gonna go dance with my wife!” She laughed giddily and ran off, which was a formidable feat for her in heels.

“Wow,” Ryuji said, scratching his head. Pop music continued to blare. He and Akira moved towards the side and watched the guests, who appeared hesitant to come forward.

“People don’t look like they want to dance,” Akira said, raising his voice a little to be heard over the melody.

“Ann’ll change that,” Ryuji replied in the same tone. Sure enough, when Ann dragged Makoto onto the makeshift dance floor in a flurry of limbs and chiffon, more people turned their attention to the area. Someone turned off a few of the lights, and the atmosphere slowly became more lively.

“I’m gonna duck away somewhere before she challenges me to a dance-off or something,” Ryuji said quickly, patting Akira on the back. “I’ll catch up with you in a bit, dude.”

“Sure,” Akira said, nodding at Ryuji before he left. After watching Ann and Makoto for another moment, he left them to their nuptial bliss and moved around the banquet hall for a short while. He spent some time making conversation with a few others he encountered, but when he found himself merely people-watching again, he decided to walk back to the table.

Everyone else was still there, though Okumura was standing and leaning over to talk to Futaba. If Akira had to bet, he’d guess that she was convincing her to dance, though judging from Futaba’s rapid head-shaking, she was vehemently opposed to the idea.

Goro was still there, too, attention fixed on his phone. He still had that old habit Akira had always thought was hilarious, of squinting slightly as he looked at the screen like an old person and using one finger to scroll. But Akira wasn’t able to find it as endearing as usual at that moment, because somehow, the fact that Goro was so focused on something else was a little annoying.

 _Something else?_ Akira caught his own thoughts, and sighed. _Yeah. Something that isn’t me._

The music swelled suddenly, shifting to a fast-paced piano tune. Somehow, it was then that Akira knew what he wanted to do.

He walked closer to the table, until he was standing next to Goro’s chair. Instead of saying anything, he waited until Goro looked up to glance at him questioningly.

“Hey,” Akira said, holding out his hand. His heart seemed to be making more sense than his head. “Dance with me?”


	9. get related

As time went on, Akira grew more adept at the art of apology.

It was necessary, after that last phone call, and in the future, too, because quietly, awfully, something about Goro began to become unknowable, and when Akira found himself losing the ability to tell how Goro would react to something, it seemed natural to say sorry, even if he never said it for the reasons he meant. _Sorry for whatever happened that’s making this happen. Sorry for not being able to stop it, and not knowing how. Sorry for not being sure if I should try to at all._ But when he spoke, it was to beg forgiveness for forgetting an important date, or not remembering what restaurant in Shinjuku Goro didn’t like, or sparking another small argument, or trying too hard or too little.

Goro, for his part, seemed to favor avoidance. Akira could make his feelings known, and Goro could sigh or smile or speak with his eyes in a mild response, but he was hiding again, and things were changing.

The worst part was that as Goro became someone more unfamiliar, Akira wasn’t sure how much he liked the parts of him that he could still understand.

It was a while before Akira realized they’d fallen out of sync, because it was something a little too bitter to accept. They got dinner a week after that last phone call, strangely subdued, with all the things Akira wanted to say dying in his throat in a reaction to Goro’s shuttered face.

Whenever Goro came by Akira’s apartment, then, he had a new, weary look on his face, as if he expected something to go wrong. Something about that expression made Akira angry, even as he told himself that wasn’t a fair reaction. _How am I supposed to try and make things better when he seems like he’s just waiting for everything to fall apart?_

It got to be too much, looking at that face and trying to control his irritation, so Akira found himself letting the distance between them stretch. It was depressingly easy to message less, to stop setting aside time to catch Goro before class or make plans on the weekend. What became harder was training himself out of seeing the world in terms of Goro, of parsing his Instagram feed and seeing things that reminded Akira of him, of hearing about things happening in the city and wondering if he and Goro could go together...

 _Out of sync._ It was rapidly becoming as if they’d never really connected in the first place.

Goro seemed grateful for the change, because he seemed to have stopped trying just as much as Akira had. It was too painful to try and guess what he was thinking, so Akira didn’t. Wasn’t it obvious, anyway?

It was funny, Akira reflected, how everything was so clearly leading up to an ending, but he didn’t want to see it, because–

It made no sense for things to just fizzle out like this. Akira wanted something final. No– he wanted a sign.

He took advantage of the law library to study one morning. It was the nicest on campus, and usually empty at this hour. If he made himself look innocent enough no law students would fix him with a dirty look for encroaching upon their stupid sacred legal space.

He was starting to nod off after an hour of poring over his notes when suddenly, he heard a voice say “Yeah… that one guy’s in my program, though. Akechi.”

Akira looked up. The source was someone he didn’t know, a tall girl talking to her friend.

“We have the same advisor,” the girl continued, “but I feel like she knows him better than she knows me. What’s up with that? I never missed a meeting. Anyway, I saw him when I turned in my thesis today, and he…”

Akira abruptly stopped listening. _Goro’s thesis._

He closed his eyes briefly, and breathed through his nose. Had he forgotten? No, Goro, usually so quick to report any accomplishment, hadn’t even told him.

Somehow, then, Akira knew it was ending, but even as he dimly registered the knowledge, he pulled out his phone, opened his messenger app, and selected Goro’s name.

_hey. big day, congratulations. can I see you?_

* * *

Akira was sure that if he glanced at the table he’d see Okumura's keen glance or Futaba rolling her eyes, but he didn’t look away from Goro. For just a second, the shadow of surprise passed over Goro’s face, but in the next moment it was gone and it was a smooth voice that said to Akira: “Of course.” He stood decisively and accepted Akira’s hand, with a confident grip that didn’t escape Akira’s notice. “It would be my pleasure.”

 _Oh, so that’s how we’re doing it._ Akira fought to contain a grin. _Perfect._ If Goro wanted to play it cool, then Akira wasn’t going to make it easy for him.

Goro followed Akira over to the makeshift dance floor. Akira felt the urge to look behind him, but he had an odd feeling that if he did so Goro might not be there at all. Like Orpheus and Eurydice. It was strange enough that they had suddenly begun to play this game. Who knew what could happen next?

Back on the floor, most people dancing were older couples. No one appeared to be taking any of it very seriously; the small group of people participating were laughing and joking around. Not so for Akira and Goro– in the midst of all that lightheartedness, there was something heavy about the way they stood there and regarded each other after finding their own small corner of the floor.

“You could have at least waited for something more down-tempo to play,” Goro said. He held out a hand, and Akira accepted it.

“You know nice and slow isn’t my style,” Akira replied, smile a little savage as Goro placed a hand at Akira’s back. “Or yours, for that matter.”

“What a bold assumption to make.” Goro pulled Akira just a little closer and began to lead him in a dance. After a short moment, he added with a low smile of his own, eyes fixed on Akira’s, “But you’re right.”

They moved around the floor, matching the rhythm of the song that had just begun to play. It was a curious tune– a stuttering piano that seemed to stop just when the main melody began, violins that sounded almost sinister. Like something that could have been a waltz, but changed its mind at the last second.

Goro wasn’t backing down; his eyes were never leaving Akira’s, the hand on his back didn’t falter once. Unexpectedly, he raised Akira’s arm to lead him into a twirl. Akira followed obediently, smiling when he turned around and Goro pulled him closer again.

Goro leaned closer to speak into Akira’s ear, a soft murmur. “You’re not half-bad at this.”

“Old boyfriend taught me how.” The answer came quickly, with none of his usual quips– something about the situation demanded clarity and swiftness.

“Is that so?” Goro’s hand moved just a little farther to his waist, and Akira’s lips curled up in a smirk.

“Mm-hmm. He was good at it, too.”

“Better than me, I imagine. I’m a little out of practice.”

“Not really,” Akira said. “I haven’t actually met anyone who compares to you in a while.”

That hit the mark– Goro’s eyes widened, just slightly, before he replied, deceptively casual, “I’d be a little more careful with your words, Akira.”

“Oh, but I mean everything I say, Goro.”

“Do you, now,” Goro said, and then they were suddenly moving faster, Goro’s steps taking on an almost aggressive edge. Akira rose to the challenge, stepping back when Goro stepped forward, trying to predict how he would move, feeling the link between them strengthen.

Another song change, this time to a slower ballad.

“Boring,” Akira muttered.

“I can’t say I care for this song,” Goro agreed.

“I don’t even know how to dance to something like this.” Around them, couples were slowing down. Someone turned off another light, but Goro’s face looked as if it were brightening, sharpening in the darkness.

“It’s hardly difficult,” Goro said. One of his hands dropped to Akira’s back, and the other held Akira’s own hand. “Just sway.”

“Sway,” Akira mimicked, but he complied, drawing closer to Goro, moving his head so he almost had it tucked in to the crook of Goro’s neck. He had a strange view of the rest of the makeshift dance-floor. The tables were too far away to see properly. Too bad; he wanted to stick his tongue out at Futaba.

He was probably just thinking about that to make the fact that Goro was literally holding him gently in his arms less nerve-wracking.

_Oh my God, I really do suck at nice and slow._

“Feels very high-school dance,” Akira muttered.

“Why don’t you pretend we’re at one? You’d be–”

“Right at home, because I’m so juvenile, yeah, yeah.”

“Ha.” He heard the smile in Goro’s voice. “You’re catching on.”

They moved slowly around the floor for a little while, not speaking. This really was awful, because everything in Akira wanted him to rest his head on Goro’s shoulder and close his eyes. He stubbornly refused to, though. _I can’t show weakness._

“Surprised you agreed to this,” Akira noted after a moment, though he wasn’t, not really. Goro could never resist a provocation.

“I simply didn’t want to disappoint you,” Goro said, voice almost sing-song. “After all, you were searching so diligently for me earlier today. This is your reward.”

Akira considered making a crude joke about rewards, but decided against it. Pulling away, so that he could see Goro’s face, he replied, “Really, it seems like you didn’t want to be found. A little like you were scared.”

“What would I have to be scared of?” Goro asked, voice low.

“You tell me,” Akira said.

They locked eyes, and the same thrill ran through Akira like a shock. He had forgotten how fun this was, to flirt with possibility, to throw caution to the wind. And it was always even better with Goro, because of the ways he was always surprising Akira, holding himself in opposition and then suddenly turning the tables, forcing Akira to stay aware and alert and pushing him to his limits.

Now, it was as if he was at the precipice and everything was propelling him forward, compelling him to step over the line.

_I really feel like doing something stupid._

And then, in the space of just a few seconds– he noticed Ryuji standing off to the side, talking animatedly into his phone. The sight made him think of his own phone– and realize he couldn’t feel it in his back pocket.

“Shit,” Akira said suddenly.

“What is it?” Goro said, with a puzzled frown.

“My... phone. I just realized it’s not on me and I haven’t seen it since the reception.”

“Did you have it at the church?” Goro said immediately, shifting into what Akira recognized as problem-solver mode.

“I– yeah. Fuck, did I leave it there?” Akira shook his head. “Damn it, I have pictures on there I haven’t uploaded, I...”

“You should go back for it. I’ll accompany you,” Goro said, and Akira only nodded, too busy turning over possibilities in his head to respond.

They left the floor, the absence of Goro’s body against his taking a moment to adjust to. And it was only when he stopped to explain things to Futaba before they left did he realize what Goro had offered.

“So you’re going back to the church?” Futaba asked. “ _With_ him?” Her gaze darted towards Goro.

“Yeah, with– oh.” Akira opened and closed his mouth. “Yeah.”

“...Okay. Hope you find it. And…” She looked over at Goro, standing a few feet away, and rolled her eyes. “Have fun.”

“Hey, I–”

“Save it,” Futaba advised.

“Right.” _It’s nothing. Whatever. Honestly, I’m more concerned about my phone right now._ “Don’t die before I get back.”

Futaba pushed her glasses further up her nose. “Will try.”

He and Goro left the hotel and began their walk to the church. It was dark by then, the parts of their path not illuminated by lights from the buildings shady and opaque. Goro’s face seemed to change the faster they went, the shadows falling on his features drawing them anew. Akira looked away after a moment of staring, back at the path ahead.

They reached the church in a few minutes. Akira stepped up to the small building and tried the doors, sighing in relief when they opened.

* * *

He met up with Goro in a small courtyard, one of the few green spaces on their urban campus. Even that area was turning a little grayer as fall approached. The wind was mild, but Akira had forgotten a jacket, and it seemed to cut through his clothes. He shivered slightly.

It was easy to identify Goro, even from a distance– because yet again, he was wearing it. Akira smiled a little ruefully. _Sweater vest._ That first day he’d looked Goro in the eyes felt forever ago.

* * *

The two of them made their way into the silent chapel. It seemed much bigger when it was empty, and their footsteps sounded louder as they walked further inside. It was dark inside; only the moonlight falling in from the windows made their surroundings visible.

Akira approached the third row of pews with slight trepidation. “I was sitting here, so–” His heart thudded in his chest as he looked down at the bench. _I seriously cannot afford to lose my phone._ But there it was, miraculously– lying face-down close to the center of the row, where he’d probably forgotten to put it back in his pocket.

“Thank God,” Akira breathed, edging into the pew to grab it. He sunk down on the bench and sighed.

“I would say God did indeed act to your benefit, considering where we are.” Goro leaned against the side of the bench and assumed a casual stance, watching Akira with folded arms.

“I’ll never leave you again,” Akira told his phone.

“Always the dramatic,” Goro sighed. When Akira turned to look at him, they smiled slightly at one another.

* * *

“Hey,” Akira called as he approached, and Goro turned.

“There you are,” Goro said. The wind teased the ends of his hair. His expression looked resigned.

Standing in front of him, Akira found he strangely couldn’t figure out what to do with his hands. He clenched his fists, unclenched them again.

Goro angled his chin in the direction of a nearby table. “Do you–”

“Yeah, sure.” Akira followed him over, unable to shake the feeling that he was being led to some kind of punishment. The last time they’d had a talk like this, with such a sense of foreboding attached– right. That time in the library, that conversation in the stairwell that seemed so ripe with promise.  

* * *

Neither of them spoke for a moment. Akira realized for the first time how alone they were, in this dark and quiet place, and found he didn’t know exactly how he felt. But it was a striking change from all the activity at the reception, a bit of a relief. “Just now realizing how loud it was in there,” Akira said, leaning back. “Kinda nice to have a break.”

“Yes.” Goro closed his eyes. “I appreciate a celebratory atmosphere, but–”

“Hey, it’s just us,” Akira broke in, and smiled lopsidedly at him. “You can just say you don’t like loud places, no preface needed.”

“...Right.” Goro shook his head and chuckled. “Fine, then– I don’t like loud places.”

“See? Easy.” Akira grinned, and felt acutely pleased when he saw Goro’s smile spread, slow like honey.

It really was easy. He could sense Goro’s growing comfort with him, the return of their rapport. But there were still things Akira wanted to say– that he had to say. Would there ever be a better time than just then?

“Hey, Goro.”

Goro turned to him, a wordless question written on his face.

Akira reached for his camera; he’d brought it with him. “Can I show you something?”

“...All right,” Goro acquiesced.  

When Akira gestured to the space next to him, Goro hesitated for just a moment before sliding into the pew and sitting down.

"It’s just this.” Akira turned on his camera and pressed a few buttons, quickly going through his memory card– by now, he knew exactly where the photo he sought was in his gallery. When he came upon it, he held the camera closer to Goro, angling it so he could see. “Here.”

Together, the two of them looked at the photo Akira had chosen to enlarge on the screen. It was, of course, Akira’s only picture of Goro– the one that showed him looking out at the horizon.

“Oh,” Goro said, sounding surprised. “It’s me.”

“It’s you,” Akira confirmed.

“So that’s what Kitagawa was hinting at,” Goro said, expression impossible to read.

“I didn’t show this to anyone,” Akira protested, with a sheepish smile. “No idea what he meant.”

“Hm. Perhaps he can sense something we don’t.” Before Akira could respond to that, Goro added, “I didn’t even notice you taking this.”

“It’s the only one I have of you.”

“Oh.” Goro seemed a little uncertain. He squinted at the image, then looked back up at Akira. “It’s a good photo.” His eyes fell on it again. “Why are you showing it to me now?”

After a pause, Akira replied, “You’re right– it’s a good picture of you. But I guess I’m not really sure if I like it.”

Rather than responding, Goro swiveled his head to fix Akira with his best _Explain_ look.

Akira leaned back in the pew, eyes fixed on Goro even as he slumped in the seat, hands clasped in his lap with his camera held between his arms. “I know from the very beginning, you were making it clear you didn’t want to think too hard about… you know, the past.”

“Yes. But that was my... mistake.” There was a modicum of hesitation in the way he said that last word; Akira could always count on Goro to detest admitting fault. “I was just trying to run from– things. I should have known I couldn’t sweep our history aside so easily.” Goro raised his head, giving him a wry look. “Things are never simple with you, after all.”

Akira grinned at that. “I’m glad you’re willing to talk to me now. But I’ve been thinking about how back in school, I really wanted to know you. And you have to admit– you didn’t exactly make it easy for me.”

Goro shifted. “Akira...”

* * *

They seated themselves at the table.

Akira found himself desperate to lighten the mood, to fall back on his old joke-cracking habit, but the bitterly conflicted expression on Goro’s face was making it impossible. This was not something, Akira realized, that could be smoothed over so easily. This was nothing that could be trivialized.

Especially not by Akira. After all, he was the one who had to lead the interrogation here.

“Your thesis,” Akira said. “You didn’t tell me.”

“...No.” Goro closed his eyes. “No, I didn’t.”

“I thought…” Akira rubbed the back of his neck. “I thought it was really important to you.”

“It was,” Goro answered.

Akira drummed his fingers against his thigh.

* * *

“I know,” Akira said quickly, “that a lot of it was my fault. I was too– I didn’t always consider how you felt, and I should have done that. It’s not an excuse, but back then we were younger and dumber. But when that, you know, younger and dumber part of me looks at this picture…” He gazed at the camera again. “I think about how hard I tried, to get you to look at me. And I think of how much I wanted you to tell me what you saw, when you were looking far away.”

“...What are you trying to say?”

Akira turned to him. “Okay. Goro, I want you to stay in my life. To keep in touch. Because I’m…” He heard the unfamiliar self-consciousness in his own voice and cleared his throat. “It might be stupid to say this, but I want more memories of you, where we aren’t always on different pages. I just… think that’d be nice. To be friends. You think?”

Goro exhaled, and Akira heard that quiet breath clearly in the silence of the chapel. “I don’t know why, but I didn’t expect you to say that.”

“Yeah, well…” Akira cracked a smile. “I’m saying it.”

“I’m... glad you think that way, however,” Goro said. Uncharacteristically, he fidgeted, just slightly, shifting in his seat and reaching up to pull at his collar, and Akira noted the movement at once. _Cute._ And then Goro smiled, almost to himself, before looking away. “I would enjoy keeping in touch.”

“Good,” Akira said simply.

“And if we do so, I’ll make sure to look in your direction.”

“You really will?”

“You’re not easy to look away from,” replied Goro. He looked at his knees with a little, baleful smile. “I’m not quite sure how I ever did.” 

* * *

“...We haven’t really been in touch, for a while now, have we?”

“No.” Akira sunk lower in his seat. “No, we haven’t.”

Any anger he felt was being replaced by a kind of weariness. It felt like such a slow death, to have to hear Goro’s hesitation, the sense of resolution in his voice. It was miserable, because as much as he wanted it to end, wanted the trigger pulled at last, he wanted in equal part to hear Goro laugh, to see him smile warmly– that smile he hadn’t gotten to witness for a while– to have Goro reach out and offer him his hand before saying _it’s okay, we can fix this, it isn’t difficult at all._..

* * *

Akira just watched Goro. Instead of the flood of relief he’d expected to feel, there was only the trickle of a stream– a sense of a kind of denouement, yes, but mostly just… an amplification of the feeling that kept sending him impossible impulses and reminding him of Goro’s present closeness, keeping him aware of the nearly-indecipherable sound of his breathing, calling eternal attention to the fact that there were only a few inches between them on the pew. Akira scolded himself, silently, all while maintaining outward placidity– _Is this not enough for you? What did you think was gonna happen?_

Never mind that, anyway, he had to say something else. “Well, I’m glad you get it now.” He gave Goro a triumphant grin. “It is me we’re talking about. I’m really popular, you know.”

“I’m sure there’s no end of degenerates standing in lines in hopes of making your acquaintance,” Goro said, examining his nails as the corners of his mouth tugged upwards.

Akira leaned closer to him. “You’re seriously an asshole.”

“If that’s what it takes to keep you in check.”  

* * *

“I think we might be bad at needing each other,” Goro said. The wind almost carried away his words, but even though he was speaking softly, reserved, Akira could hear everything. 

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

“...Doesn’t it?” Goro looked away, a heaviness in his eyes. “It’s hard to be needed. It’s harder to need someone else.”

Akira bit his lip and stayed quiet.

* * *

A brief moment of silence. Feeling an urge to look away, Akira toyed with his camera, but snapped back to attention when Goro spoke up, saying “Akira.”

He had a strange look on his face when Akira turned to him, almost wistful. “Since I left school, I’ve taken more pride in the fact that I’ve gotten closer to understanding... who I am, and ceased placing such an emphasis on the feelings of other people as a way to find the answer. I’ve become fixated on changing, as a method of survival. However, I’m beginning to understand that the person I was is a part of me as well. The stubborn, neurotic boy I was made me who I am today– made me a person who I can finally stand to look at in the mirror. More or less.” Another wry smile. “And I can’t simply lock away parts of myself I don’t want to face any longer. What I mean is that–” He hesitated. “I don’t entirely understand it. I was convinced that seeing you here, spending time in your company, would only dredge up unwanted memories, would pull me backwards into a past I wanted to forget. But now...”

“What?” Akira said quietly.

Goro’s voice changed. “I don’t– know why, but now, when I look at you, I think of the future.”

It was that last word, Akira would reflect later, that probably changed everything.

* * *

“I miss you, you know,” Akira said, after another moment, because he did. Regardless of his frustration, his anger, his qualms, when he looked at Goro, then, so formal and sad, there was only one feeling he could identify, and that was the regret that came with misplaced longing.

Goro sighed. “I miss you, too. It feels like I’ve missed you for quite a while.”

They were quiet for a moment.

“But,” Akira said in a low voice, “that isn’t enough, is it?”  

* * *

 _Future._ The sudden solemnity of it was almost overbearing. _When he looks at me, he sees something new._

But Goro wasn’t looking at Akira then; his posture seemed more rigid than ever, his shoulders stiff as his fingers reached up to curl self-consciously at the ends of his hair– but the prickliness of his physical defense was so different from the warm, raw way he’d said what he’d said. Akira couldn’t stop hearing Goro’s voice in his head. _The future?_ Why was Akira’s heart suddenly beating so much faster?

 _I am so close to something,_ Akira thought, with sudden clarity, sharp enough to hurt, but then–

“We should go back,” Goro said abruptly, suddenly, and then he was standing up, edging out of the pew and looking down at Akira with one of those indecipherable expressions.

“I– yeah,” Akira said. His throat felt suddenly dry; he swallowed as he slid out of the pew.

Goro’s eyes never left him, followed Akira as he got to his feet and stood up to look at Goro.

The air between them felt different, now that they were looking right at each other like this. Confessional. Charged with something almost undeniable. And right after Goro had said that, about the future. Why did he have to say that, just when Akira was so close to convincing himself to let this feeling go? Akira’s heart felt suddenly alight. It was so hard to think straight when Goro’s eyes were on him like this.

He felt a sudden panicked need to break that strange expectant silence, and re-assert what they’d just agreed upon. “Well, I’m glad we’re gonna be friends.”

“Yes,” Goro said, after a moment. His eyes looked just like they had at dinner, just like they had when Akira had danced with him. A piercing stare, unforgiving in its scrutiny. Those were eyes that made Akira want to give himself up to be be examined. _God. Dinner._ How did that feel so long ago and so recent at the same time?

* * *

Goro reached out, put his hand on the table, fingers curled upwards in a hopeful gesture. Akira hesitated before he reached out and took it.

Goro’s hand was warm in his.

“No,” Goro said quietly. “I don’t think it’s enough.”

* * *

The door was right there, but neither of them moved towards it. Something made Akira feel like he was being held there, in that small, solemn room bathed in moonlight and filled with spiritual silence.

“Friends,” Goro said belatedly. Every word they spoke, then, perhaps because of the suggestion of what was between them, seemed a little irreverent, like they should fall to their knees in prayer instead of indulging themselves in this conversation, this speech they were constructing to bury a slightly inconvenient truth. Akira hated it all, suddenly– the hollow sense of artificiality in his words and Goro’s, the way he could tell that, once again, Goro wasn’t saying what he meant, the nagging urge to bow his head and turn deferent to the sanctity of this place.

* * *

“I think we might not have done a lot of this right,” Akira said slowly. “And I don’t know how to fix it.”

Goro smiled, small, sad, and said, “I wouldn’t put that burden on you.”  

* * *

Akira stood a little taller, as if to assert himself against that very urge, shooing away unwelcome visions of reimpranding angels. Somehow, he and Goro were slightly closer. He was certain he hadn’t deliberately moved, but there were mere inches of space between them now. Akira could feel the pace of his heart quicken again, could feel his breathing grow harsher. He was holding back so much of an impulse that it felt like a physical burden, and from how tense Goro seemed Akira could tell he felt the same way.

* * *

They were quiet for a moment, because the words that needed to be said wouldn’t come. 

* * *

As soon as Akira let his eyes fall upon him he knew it was a mistake; there was no preventing himself from looking, and wasn’t there something written in the Bible itself, about how it only took the eyes to sin?

He was going to remember this night– going to remember the unreality of it.

* * *

He was going to remember this for a while, because of how much it hurt, and how suddenly that pain came.

“I didn't want this.” Goro closed his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too.” Akira looked at his feet.  

* * *

He was going to remember Goro’s face, looking strangely tense.

* * *

“Can we just–” Akira nearly tripped over his words, took a breath, tried again. “Maybe we should just… say goodbye.”  

* * *

He was going to remember his eyes, which had finally dropped from Akira’s; now they had lowered, Goro was looking at his lips. 

* * *

“Then,” Goro said, with soft finality, “Goodbye, Akira.” And with that–

* * *

It was then that Akira knew, with perfect clarity, what would happen.

* * *

–it was over.  

* * *

He could pinpoint, exactly, the moment when both of their resolves broke at the same time. It might have been that look. It might have been his own desire to cast away the pressure to behave imposed by the church’s atmosphere, an old reckless instinct that made him refuse to defer to anything. It might have been Goro– his decision to act on the want Akira could see in his gaze. It was probably all of those things in combination, but everything resolved itself suddenly, violently, when Goro moved forward at the same time Akira did and suddenly Goro’s mouth was on his and Akira’s eyes were instinctively fluttering shut before he was unceremoniously pushed backwards, stumbling a little until he hit the edge of the pew.

Did it feel the same as it had before, when Goro had kissed him? Akira wasn’t sure. He found that he was unable to think about anything but the present, the _now_ -ness of it, the suddenness of touch. He could feel how much Goro had been holding back, and Akira’s own frustration was mirrored, too, in the hard, careless way they kissed, noses bumping and lips almost bruising. Perfect, despite the frenzied urgency of it, because it was like a thrilling confirmation that Goro had wanted just as much as he did. That Akira had been justified in wishing and waiting and crafting backstories for each meaningful glance.

Goro had placed his hand against Akira’s chest, exerting just enough pressure to keep him there in place, but something in Akira protested; he didn’t just want Goro to call the shots. No, Akira wanted to be a meteor, to crash into Goro’s orbit and knock him out of balance and leave an impact that was undeniable, impossible to forget or misinterpret. Now that he’d had the first taste, all he could think about was more, more, more; he wanted to be the one to make Goro react. He reached up to thread his fingers into the hair at the base of Goro’s neck, making the gesture less urgent than careful, deliberate.

They pulled away, for just a moment, for breath, but it was only a moment before Akira was leaning forward again, brushing his lips against Goro’s, taking it slower this time. Just as slowly, Goro lowered his hands to wrap around Akira’s waist.

Akira deepened the kiss, made it open-mouthed and curious, and got just the reaction he wanted in the soft sound Goro made and the way his fingernails dug into Akira’s side, a pleasant kind of dull pain that couldn’t compare to how good it felt to do this, finally, and how had it only been days when it felt like he’d been waiting forever, and how had he not realized he’d been waiting until what he’d waited for was within his grasp?

One of Goro’s hands was starting to pull at the end of Akira’s dress shirt. It felt, Akira thought dazedly, like he’d finally struck a secret chord and gotten to hear a song that only played when things fell unchangeably into place, even though this wasn’t the right place or time or right anything. Knowing that made it better, because Goro knew it too, and yet he was still here, still doing this with him.

Or he was, until Goro’s hand pulled away and he suddenly stopped kissing Akira back. “Wait.”  

“Boo,” Akira said.

“This…” Goro’s voice was rough.

“Bad idea?” Akira breathed, because it was.

“Obviously–” But Goro didn’t move away again, just leaned forward and pressed his forehead against Akira’s. Akira could see his dark eyes, could hear the rise and fall of Goro’s breath and feel it, like it was his own. If this was the wrong time, if it was too fast, why did he feel so in sync with Goro?

With effort, Goro said, “You always do this.”

“Do what?” Akira said, reaching up to cup Goro’s face with his hand, because he couldn't help it, he couldn’t not touch, not now.

“Rob me of my reason.” God, his voice was so hot, when he shed his inhibitions and lost that purposefully pleasant tone. His eyes fell on Akira’s hand, following its slight movements as Akira stroked his cheek with his thumb. “Make me lose my good sense.”

“Aw, Goro. If you sweet-talk me anymore, I just might swoon,” Akira said, and before Goro could come up with a retort Akira was already kissing him again.

Akira could have stayed like that forever, despite the general physical discomfort brought on by their surroundings, with Goro’s hands on him and the warmth of his lips on Akira’s own, but inevitably, they had to pull apart once more, and this time when Goro tried to stop again his tone was final.  

“We have to leave,” Goro said. His mouth was still inches from Akira’s, and it was a joy to see his eyes heavy-lidded, his cheeks noticeably more flushed. Akira was sure he looked just as affected. “Before this becomes blasphemous.”

Akira pouted, but Goro stepped back and fixed him with a stern glare, and he sighed, reluctantly acquiescing before smoothing out his shirt. “Fine. God is watching, and all.”

Goro gave Christ’s portrayal etched in the stained glass a dubious glance. “Ugh.”

After leaving the church, Akira was sure they meant to keep on the path and return to the hotel, but somehow Goro ended up shoving him against a wall of a nearby, unlit building and they were right back where they started.

“You know, you’re right, we really should not be doing this,” Akira breathed.

“Definitely not,” Goro agreed, but it didn’t stop him from moving his lips to Akira’s neck.

And then Akira’s phone went off.

“Sorry,” Akira said, fumbling in his pocket as Goro raised his chin to meet his eyes. “Futaba,” he told him, swiping on the screen to answer and ignoring the protests from his baser instincts.

“Oh, good, you found it,” Futaba said, when he picked up.

“Yup. Sure did. What’s, uh, happening?” He tried to pay attention and not think about how thirty seconds ago his lips had been attached to Goro’s lips.  _Goro Akechi’s_ lips.

“Kitagawa’s about to unveil his painting. You wanna see, right?

“Yup. Yes. I do. I… would want nothing more, at this moment, than to see Kitagawa’s painting.”

“Hey, why do you sound weird?”

“I don’t. No reason. I’m coming. Thanks for calling. Bye!” Akira ended the call and returned his phone to his pocket.

Ever elegant, Goro was already smoothing down his clothes and returning stray strands of hair to their places.

“All right,” Akira said, and for some reason he felt a blush heat his own face. “Um, we should…”  

“Yes,” Goro said, looking down and rubbing the back of his neck almost sheepishly. “Let’s return.”

The walk back to the hotel felt disconcerting. It was almost ridiculous to have to return calmly and pretend like nothing had happened when things had changed in such a way, when Akira had re-discovered how it felt like to touch Goro and see him undone. Akira kept finding himself suddenly bubbling up into laughter at the sheer surreality of it. Goro didn’t hesitate to shove him in response.  

“Be mature,” Goro hissed.

“We made out in a church,” Akira wheezed.

“Shut _up_.”

“You’re laughing, too!”

“Because it’s–! God. I can’t believe this. This is your fault.”

“What, because I’m irresistible?”

“It’s more like you make me want to knock you down a few pegs whenever I’m around you.”

“Knock me down a peg, with your _mouth_?”

“...Yes.”

Finally, they reached the hotel. Akira took a breath before walking through the entrance, preparing to enter, but Goro stopped him before he could.

“Hold on.” He stepped in front of Akira and took hold of his tie, frowning slightly as he smoothed it down and tightened the knot. Then he stepped back. “There.”

Akira felt a stupid smile creep up on his face.

“What is it?”

“Nothing.”

They headed inside and into the banquet hall, and saw Okumura almost immediately.

“Akechi, there you are!” She sauntered over and looked between the two of them before giggling. “Oh, am I interrupting something?”

_What?! How can she tell?_

“Hardly,” Goro said smoothly before Akira could stutter out a response.

“I, uh, found my phone,” Akira managed to say, holding it up.

“Lovely!”

“Hey, you guys.” Futaba strode up to them. “Akira, come over here. Ryuji’s helping Kitagawa get his canvas and it’s funny to watch him struggling.”

“Oh, yes! Akechi, I’m meant to tell you that Makoto would like a picture with us,” Okumura supplied.

Akira hesitated, looking at Goro.

“...Right,” Goro said, looking at Okumura. He turned to Akira, facing him. “Well…”

For once, Akira couldn’t think of anything to say. An awful question dawned on him: _What now?_ The answer refused to come, and now they were already having to part ways. Did Goro feel it, too, that unshakable certainty that something had changed? It definitely seemed as if he had, but in the middle of a wedding reception, what were they to do?

Goro, too, seemed to hesitate. Then, suddenly his expression evened out. He brushed past Akira, and as he did, said softly into his ear, “203.”

“...Huh?”

“203.” Goro raised his head, looking sure of himself. “Don’t forget it. I won’t say it again.” And with that, he and Okumura left, her with a wave and he without a backwards glance.

Futaba stood there expectantly. “Well?”

“Yeah, yeah, let’s go.”

But even as he rejoined the fray, he kept turning what Goro had said over in his mind. _203? What…_

And then, suddenly, he realized just exactly what Goro had meant.

_That’s his room number._

For what felt like the millionth time that day, Akira couldn’t keep a grin from nearly splitting his face in two.


	10. fior di latte

After the dark silence of the church, the lights and noise of the banquet hall felt like a sludgy overload smothering Akira’s senses once again. But in another way, all Akira could feel as Futaba led him over to the side door was as if everything had become dull, muted. Like the feeling of Goro touching him had made everything that came after seem suddenly insignificant. Even just the memory of Goro’s lips on his mouth and his neck, his hands on Akira’s waist, seemed more vivid and true than anything else.

It was strange, to touch someone he’d been so easily close to before with new intent, to feel so changed by the resurgence of an old connection. Surely, Akira thought, it was an obvious transformation; he must look different to everybody, now that impulse had won out over rationality in such a way. But Futaba didn’t seem to notice much, and Akira wasn’t just going to bring it up–

“You know, when we got here…” Futaba said suddenly.

“Huh? Yeah?” Akira ceased daydreaming and snapped back to attention.

“I really thought you were going to hook up with, like, the bellboy or something. But instead it was at least someone you already knew. So I guess I’m proud of you.”

_...Wait._

“Hey!” Akira sputtered.

“What?”

“I’m–” Before addressing the important part of what she’d said, he couldn’t help but dwell on the first thing. “A bellboy? Seriously?”

“Like you’ve never done it before.”

“Well… I mean, that's besides the point! How do you know that– What do you even think happened just now?!”

“I don’t know,” Futaba said solemnly. “But God does.”

Akira ran a hand through his hair. “Oh, shut up. There was no– I just want it to be clear that we did not desecrate a holy space.”

“Whatever you did, you should know what you’re doing. In general, I mean.” Futaba gave him a look.

This was the area in which he and Futaba most often butted heads– as she’d grown up, she’d become far more calculative, the type of person who always liked to know where she was heading. Though, unlike other people Akira knew who used logic as a kind of mode of defense, a way to arm themselves against the world– like Goro– Futaba actually took pleasure in figuring variables and outcomes. With her programmer’s mind, she was comfortable being methodical. But Akira, in his own life, had found himself going farther in the other direction. The knowledge that he couldn’t predict the future had eventually become strangely reassuring to him. He wasn’t impulsive all the time, but he knew he was definitely far more spontaneous than his sister– and usually, it worked out well for him, just as Futaba’s way worked for her. He was glad that Futaba made the effort to understand him and respect his choices, regardless of all of that. “I never know what I’m doing,” Akira pointed out. “But things usually work out by themselves in the end.”

Futaba cocked her head and considered it. “I guess that’s mostly true, for you. Though I still dunno if it’s just dumb luck or not.”

Akira shrugged. “Whatever it is, it’s worked so far.”

“Ow!”

That yelp could only have come from Ryuji. Futaba and Akira turned towards the door.

“My apologies.” And that subdued, formal voice was definitely Kitagawa’s. “Was that my fault?”

“Nah, you’re fine, just, the door– man, why is this so huge?” Ryuji groaned. Slowly he and Kitagawa came into sight, taking their time entering through the side door. They were moving carefully, because they were both holding one end of a large, rectangular canvas, covered by a white sheet. Akira and Futaba watched as they somehow managed to fit it through the door, with a lot of slow maneuvering and concentrated effort.

“Did that really fit in your bathtub?” Akira asked, tilting his head to regard the canvas. He supposed the sheet made it look bigger. Even so, it was formidably-sized, especially for something Kitagawa had apparently created in just a few short days.

Kitagawa didn’t answer him, instead turning his focus to the room at large. “Attention, everyone.”

Akira had never heard Kitagawa raise his voice before, but it had the intended effect, nearly echoing through the hall. Everyone turned at once to look at him. Akira saw Ann and Makoto start to come forward from the other side of the room.

“For some time now,” Kitagawa announced, “I have toiled over my latest project– a piece to commemorate the wedding of my two, dear friends. After some deliberation, I concluded that the painting should encompass the theme of love as a whole. With this in mind, I ask that you now turn your eyes to my work.”

“Ahhh, Yusuke!” Ann pushed forward through the crowd, Makoto beside her. “I already know this is going to be beautiful!”

“I can’t believe you went through so much trouble, but I’ve been looking forward to this,” Makoto said with a smile.

Akira saw Goro standing nearby. When their eyes met, Goro smiled at him, small and secretive, before turning away again. Akira looked down at his feet and smiled, too. 

“Please,” Kitagawa advised, “save your praise for after the unveiling.” He turned to Ryuji. “Now… remove the sheet!”

“...Oh, me?” Ryuji said with surprise. “You’re talking to me? Okay.” He stepped in front of the canvas, took hold of one corner of the white sheet, and pulled it away.

Akira had seen good art before– he knew that a particularly striking piece had a way of appearing like it was the only source of light in the room, as if it was absorbing all the feelings and attention of everyone observing it, and this painting of Kitagawa’s was no exception. It showed what looked like a small section of a landscape made expansive and detailed by the large size of the canvas. Almost all the plant life in the painting was in bloom– Kitagawa had depicted all of it as brimming with life and vitality. There was a surreal quality to the bottom half of the piece; everything was depicted with wild, vibrant colors, and upon closer inspection Akira saw that the plants were growing not from soil, but water. All of the growth, including vines wrapping around trees and sunflowers with their petals turned upwards, seemed to be attempting to grow towards the sky. The sunset painted at the top was made in hues of brilliant reds and oranges that made it seem as if the sky itself had been Kitagawa’s palette. That should have clashed with the multicolored plants, but somehow it all seemed to come together in a kind of unity.

Kitagawa, his eyes on his piece, spoke up with an absentminded tone, as if his thoughts were far elsewhere. “I’ve often used nature as a subject for my pieces, but it was only recently that I realized why. Nature is always sincere, by which I mean it opposes human duplicity. Things in nature exist freely as they are and as they always will be. Love, too, must be genuine to flourish, and express its sincerity throughout all aspects of itself. At the same time… love is not effortless. It must always fight to grow, forever striving towards an ideal, overcoming odds and resisting the urge to give in. A celebration of sincerity in a tireless effort to grow– this is what I have chosen to depict love as.”

Akira heard the crowd murmur, impressed and awed. Ann and Makoto gaped at the painting for a moment before Makoto came closer “Yusuke,” she breathed. “This is so, so gorgeous.”

“You did it again,” Ann said, beaming. “Your art always makes feelings I didn’t even know I had into something beautiful. It’s like… it’s everything I’ve ever wanted to say.”

“Thank you so much for giving this to us,” Makoto said, putting her arm around Ann’s waist.

Kitagawa shook his head. “The two of you have offered me more with your friendship than this painting could ever return.”

The friends smiled at each other for a moment when Makoto suddenly frowned. “Wait. How are we going to get it home?”

As Ann and Makoto tried to find an answer to that question, Akira kept looking at the painting. He couldn’t believe Kitagawa had worked on such a thing in simply the past few days. _He really must be a genius._ And the message of the work that Akira could piece together from what Kitagawa had said seemed fitting. Love, Akira thought, really was something that was always growing, always striving to survive…

It felt a little strange– all this time they’d been waiting for Kitagawa to finish his piece. Now it had been revealed, and Akira finally felt like things were ending. He elbowed Futaba and said as much to her.

“You know when I felt like this was over? When the actual wedding was,” Futaba told him, but then she sighed and folded her arms. “Yeah, though… I know what you mean.”

As if to confirm their thoughts, after that things began to move along much more quickly. Long after all of the guests had handed over the envelopes of money given in gift to the couple, everyone, upon being asked to look under their chairs, received their own small bags containing sweets and other small gifts. Akira and Futaba were coaxed into coming over to sit with Ann’s parents. Ryuji eventually found his way there, too. As they all fell into conversation, rehashing old stories and telling new ones, other guests began to leave their seats and intermingle as well.

When he looked up after a while, Akira’s eyes fell on Kitagawa, who was now bent down on the floor near the center of the room. He had a laptop in front of him and looked to be configuring something. Okumura was next to him, leaning over and gesturing at the screen.

As Akira was watching them, the lights suddenly dimmed. At the same time, a projected screen on the wall in front of Kitagawa flickered to life. It showed what was obviously the beginning of a slideshow, though probably one of the most aesthetically pleasing ones Akira had ever seen. Images of delicate-looking branches, from which small purple flowers that looked hand-drawn bloomed, framed text that read simply _Ann and Makoto_ with that day’s date.

Once everyone’s attention had been drawn to the screen, Okumura and Kitagawa stood up.

Okumura started to speak. “If I could have your attention, everyone...” She smiled slightly as she waited for chatter to die down. When it did, she continued. “As a fun little way to close out this reception, Yusuke and I have created a slideshow to show you all some parts of Makoto and Ann’s journey. We hope that you’ll enjoy revisiting memories from their relationship with us!”

“I would ask that you all forgive the medium we chose,” Kitagawa said with a sigh. “For the sake of practicality, we were confined to PowerPoint. I believe my input has improved the aesthetic of the presentation, however.”

With that, the two of them moved aside. Music started to play from somewhere just as the slideshow began.

“Let’s get closer!” Futaba tugged on Akira’s sleeve and reached over to poke Ryuji and get his attention.

So the three of them pulled their chairs up to the screen. The slideshow began with another heading that informed everyone they’d be seeing photos of Ann and Makoto as kids. The first few images in this vein were of a small Ann, whose hair had been strangely close-cropped as a child. In one particularly memorable photo she wore a pair of sunglasses too big for her face and grinned beatifically at the camera.

“Oh my God,” Ryuji laughed. “Look at tiny Ann.”

“I see no difference,” Futaba remarked.

The next few pictures portrayed a young Makoto. One image showed her at what seemed to be five or six years of age with a younger version of Sae, who was holding her hand and smiling proudly while Makoto looked up with a surprised expression. In another picture, small Makoto had her face set in a petulant pout. The caption underneath the photo read _Makoto, 7 years old, after being told to stop reading her book and help set the table._

There were a few more pictures from the brides’ youth (to Akira’s delight, Ryuji was in one of Ann’s middle school photos, giving the camera a look that was simultaneously dopey and startled), and then the images began to shift in time.

The first shot of Ann and Makoto as adults showed them standing on opposite sides of Yusuke, with a few other people Akira didn’t recognize. Ann was giving the camera a peace sign ( _Seriously,_ Akira thought, _how’s she a model?_ ) and Makoto wore a cautious, close-lipped smile.

The photos that followed included Okumura in some shots, too, but then the slideshow shifted to images that mainly featured Ann and Makoto by themselves. There they were, standing in a garden or a park, Makoto’s head on Ann’s shoulder. There was a compilation of selfies. There was Ann kissing Makoto’s cheek, there were the two of them sitting in a restaurant booth.

The very last picture was the one that had been taken back at the hotel earlier that day, with Ann, her parents, Makoto, and Sae dressed in kimono. And with that, the music faded out and the slideshow ended.

The lights turned back on. There was scattered applause from the guests. Akira waited to see if anything else would happen. But even without any announcement, it was clear that the reception had ended. When Akira looked around, he saw that the tables where the appetizers had been laid out were put away and that all the plates on the dinner tables had been cleared. Had it happened in the dark? Or some other time when he wasn’t paying attention?

Something else was missing, too.

“Where,” Akira said slowly, “did Ann and Makoto go?”

Ryuji looked around. “That’s a good question, dude.”

Sure enough, the women of the hour were nowhere to be seen in the hall.

Futaba was tapping at her phone. “Pretty much everything is over now, right? They probably went to finally get some time alone.”

“That makes sense. I’m sure they’re tired of being stared at.” Not like that was personally relatable to Akira. “If it was my wedding, though, everyone would be mandated to look at me at all times. I’d have to draw up a contract.”

“Ugh. If I get married, I won’t even have people around,” Futaba declared.

“I’d be there, though. Who else would be the photographer?” Akira countered.

“Me. I’d take a selfie from the altar. And that would be the only picture.”

“...You have no respect for my art.”

Guests were starting to move out of the room. It was a slow migration– people were friendly, relaxed, and they kept stopping to talk to each other. Ann’s parents and Sae were standing near the exit, busy with goodnights and goodbyes. Akira thought he heard Sae say something about a breakfast for all the guests tomorrow, something casual before most people left for the airport.

Then, in the middle the crowd leaving the hall through the door, Akira caught sight of a head of light brown hair and an unmistakable stride.

“Maybe we should start moving out, too,” Akira said.

“You’re in a hurry,” Ryuji remarked.

“Well, you know,” Akira said evasively. No way he was going to explain Goro’s... invitation… to Ryuji. Besides, Akira hadn’t really had a chance to actually think about what Goro had suggested. And he _did_ want to think, for once, rather than just jump into something based on instinct alone. Because while any opportunity to get closer to Goro like that seemed very, very appealing, this whole thing was also… important. Despite everything, it was still Goro. And when it came to Goro, Akira always wanted to be sure.

They left the hall and went out to the dining area, where it seemed people had gathered to wind down or make conversation. A few guests were sitting around, talking at tables or drinking at the bar. Akira craned his neck to look for Goro, but he was nowhere to be seen. Had he really already left?

He did catch sight of Kitagawa and Okumura, though. With a wave, she called him, Ryuji, and Futaba over to the table they were sitting at.

“Hey, nice slideshow,” Futaba said in greeting as she sat down next to Okumura. “How long did it take to put together?”

“Quite a while, actually,” Okumura replied. “Most of our time was spent collecting pictures. But Yusuke was indispensable. He made everything look so beautiful!”

“It took me quite some time to become proficient with technology,” Kitagawa said seriously. “Though since it allows me to accomplish such work as this, I am glad I cultivated the skill.”  

“I think I’ll go over to the bar,” Ryuji said, standing up. “You drinking anything, Akira?”

Akira shook his head. “I’m good, thanks.”

And so some more time passed, and as Akira sat there with his chin in his hands, listening to the others talk, he found he was coming dangerously close to brooding. It was an uncomfortable realization; Akira didn’t often _brood_. But the lack of a reason or opportunity to confide in anybody about the whole Goro thing was grating on him.

There was one person he could always count on to hear him out regarding things like this. It was too bad that person was a little busy after just having gotten married. But Ann would have been perfect to gab to just then. Akira drummed his fingers against his leg, feeling a sudden burst of restlessness.

He wasn’t sure what he wanted to do, but he knew he couldn’t leave yet. It would look strange, and he actually did want to spend some time with the others, besides. It was his last night here, after all.

...Now that was a little depressing. This trip, for all its drama, had been a nice little reprieve. Just the thought of returning to routine made Akira feel tired.

So he sat forward, trying to will thoughts of Goro away, and joined the conversation. Okumura cheerfully recounted some details of her last vacation in Spain and seemed unable to relate to Akira’s own story about the country (the last time he’d been there he’d stayed in a hotel that was more hostel, with an owner that had missing teeth and a tendency to stare). Kitagawa and Ryuji spoke about Tokyo restaurants. Futaba and Okumura discovered they were both fans of the same Shibuya-based band.

It was nice to talk, but after close to an hour had passed, Akira couldn’t sit still anymore. “I think I’ll step away for a bit,” Akira told everyone.

“Sleeping already?” Ryuji looked at him.

“Nah,” Akira said easily. “Just gonna go get some air.”

The others bid him goodbye, and Akira got up from the table.

It wasn’t really that he needed to think, Akira reflected as he headed towards the back door that led to the garden. He just needed to get away from everyone– from the situation– for a moment. Take some time to… kill some time.

And he didn’t want to look too desperate, either. If Goro thought Akira was just going to obediently follow him the second an opportunity presented itself, he had another thought coming. _I know we were literally just all over each other a little while ago, but still._ He could at least pretend to have self-restraint.

As soon as Akira pushed open the door, he caught sight of the outline of someone sitting at the edge of a fountain, the same one Ann had found him at a few days ago. But the person was turned away from Akira, in the corner of the garden, and it was hard to tell who they were. _So much for some alone time._ But who would be out here right now? Akira stealthily drew closer to find the answer.

It came sooner rather than later. The sound of muffled giggling that became more audible as he approached came, unmistakably, from Ann’s mouth, and a low voice replying to her sounded like Makoto. _They’re both here? So this is where they went off to._

Deciding to make his presence known, Akira walked around to the other side of the fountain, facing them with a cheerful “Hey, guys.”

Sure enough, it was the two newlyweds. Ann was lying on the edge of the fountain a little awkwardly, with her legs curled up, her feet bare and her head resting on Makoto’s lap. Makoto had the fingers of one hand absently carding through Ann’s hair. They both looked up when Akira spoke.

“Oh! Is that Akira?! Hi, Akira!” Ann exclaimed. After around five seconds of observation, it became clear that she was not sober.

Akira’s grin widened. “You guys having a nice time?”

“We were, until you found us, jerk,” Ann said, trying to glare but dissolving into snorts.

“Shut up, Ann,” Makoto muttered. “You’re drunk.” But judging by her flushed cheeks, Akira guessed she had had a drink or two herself.

“I’m not drunk!” Ann protested. “I wouldn’t get all the way drunk on my wedding night.”

“Yeah, she’s just a little tipsy.” Akira took a seat besides the couple, next to Ann’s feet. “If she was drunk she’d be–”

“Crying, probably, yes,” Makoto finished.

“Aw, you two know me so well!” Ann then proceeded to give no warning before swinging her feet up onto Akira’s lap.

He bit back the urge to yelp and shifted around to accommodate her. “So actually, I’m glad I found you two.”

“Are you,” Makoto said.

Akira looked at her. She looked back at him, gaze narrow. It occurred to him that she had probably wanted some time alone with Ann. Akira coughed. Well, it was too late now. “Yup. Okay, Ann, listen. There’s someone here I’m interested in, and they just kind of offered to hook up, and–”

“Good lord,” Makoto murmured.

“Oh!” Ann’s eyes widened. “Akira, you’re not talking about–”

Akira held his breath.

“–the bellboy?”

What was with everyone he knew and– “No, Ann, I am not talking about the bellboy.”

“That’s too bad… he’s cutey… I mean, maybe kinda cute? I guess...” Ann seemed to be concentrating hard. “What do you think, Makoto?”

“Meh,” Makoto offered.

“Again, not him!” God, what did he even look like? Akira couldn’t remember.

“I’m aware of that,” Makoto said, interrupting his contemplation. “Unless Goro’s decided to consider a major change of profession.”

Akira gasped. “How did you know?”

A corner of Makoto’s mouth quirked upwards. “I’d be able to tell just by how he’s been glancing in your direction all night.”

Akira smiled bashfully. “He has, hasn’t he?”

“He has a peculiar way of looking at you, you know.” Makoto tapped a finger against her chin. “It’s so… focused. Intense.”

“Ooh,” Ann cut in. She beamed up at Makoto. “Is it like the way you look at me when we’re alone and–”

Makoto gently placed a hand over Ann’s mouth before she could continue. “Anyway, the way he treats you seems similar to the way he’s acted towards other men he’s shown interest in. Of course, I’m aware of your history, but–”  

“Wait, other people?” Akira interrupted. “Who were these others? Were there any that you would say compared to me, appearance-wise?”

Ann made a muffled noise, and Makoto lifted her hand to let her speak.

“So many words and questions,” Ann said, squinting at Akira. “Didn’t you just say he wanted to–” She raised two fingers horizontally and mashed them together.

Akira squinted back. “Seriously?”

“You know what I mean! Anyway, why are you even here? You clearly want him sooo bad, and Makoto says he’s into you too, so duh!” Ann huffed at him.

“I guess you’re right.” Akira tapped his foot restlessly against the ground. “But I just… I don’t know if…”

“You know,” Ann said suddenly, “when I first met Makoto I thought she was super stuck-up.”

“You did?” Akira asked.

“Yeah.” Ann snorted. “God, that was so dumb.” She looked up at Makoto and beamed. “I love being wrong!”

“Okay, but what does that have to do with me and Goro?”

“Mm… I don’t know. Don’t be stupid?” Ann shrugged and giggled. “Make the un-stupid decision?”

“If I may,” Makoto interrupted, and Akira turned to her.

“You seem somewhat like you’ve already made up your mind, so…” Makoto sighed. “I agree with Ann. What’s stopping you?”

“Really?”

“Yes. Consider this removed from the context of your former relationship. You both want the same thing. You seem like you’re compatible. Why not enjoy each other’s company while you’re here?”

“It’s ‘cause he’s an _artist_ ,” Ann said, now sounding sleepy. “They’re all so sensitive and blah.”

“Wow,” Akira said, ignoring Ann. “That’s pretty level-headed advice, for the situation.”

Makoto smiled. “Thank you. You know, I wasn’t able to talk frankly about this subject until around a year ago.”

“...Like, sex? In general? Aren’t you my age, basically?”

Makoto shrugged. “Better late than never. I spent most of my life sorely repressed. Now… are you planning to be on your way?”

“I… guess so?”

“Great. Please refrain from discussing the details with us, if possible.”

“But I wanna know what happens,” Ann whined.  

“Wait.” Akira paused. “Are you just saying this because you want me to go away?”

“I’d put it in less crude terms, but…” Makoto looked at him, steadfast. “Yes. Partly. I do mean what I said, though.”

"Your honesty is appreciated,” Akira conceded. “Though if you guys want privacy, you probably shouldn’t be here.”

“That’s true,” Makoto admitted. “I suppose we should retire to our room… Oh– we’re all meeting for breakfast tomorrow, around nine. You’ll be there?”

 _Early..._ “Yup, definitely.”

“I’m glad to hear it. Well, see you then, Akira.”

“See you then, Akira,” Ann echoed.

Makoto squeezed her shoulder. “Come on, let’s go.”

“Yeah, okay,” Ann said with a sigh. She sat up slowly, running a hand through her now-messy hair before linking her arm in Makoto’s and leaning over to press a kiss to her cheek. “Love you.”

Makoto smiled. “I love you too.”

They stood up. Makoto paused, looking at the ground and grinning in her subtle way before turning back to Ann. “You probably shouldn’t leave your shoes here.”

“Oh!” Ann snorted. “Yup!” She leaned over to pick them up, a little precariously because she was still holding on to Makoto, and straightened again when she had them in her hands. “Okay. All set.”

The two of them made to leave, but then Ann turned over her shoulder. “Hey, Akira… We’re gonna go have a _lot_ more fun than you and Akechi!”

“Ann!” Makoto pulled her away.

“What?” As she was dragged forth, her voice faded into the distance. “It’s truuuue…”

After another moment, Akira was alone. There was no other sound in the garden; all the guests were too far away. The rush of water trickling in the fountain was the only thing he could hear.

Now that Akira was finally by himself, he was finding that he didn’t want to be.

...203. So that was on the second floor. Akira stood up slowly.

After entering the hotel again, he managed to slip past the dining area, where his friends were still gathered, without detection. His destination was only one floor up, so he elected to take the stairs.

How strange, to be approaching Goro with such purpose again, to do so knowing exactly what he wanted.

Soon enough, Akira was in front of the door to Goro’s room. He stared at the numbers neatly engraved on it for a second before knocking. Without waiting for a reply, Akira bit back a half-smile and said, loudly enough to be heard inside,“It’s me.”

A moment of nothing, and then, after a short shuffling sound, the door swung open.

“Hello,” Goro said.

He was fixing Akira with one of his looks. He was dressed the same way as earlier, minus the suit jacket and tie. He did not smile.

“Hey,” Akira replied, straightening a little.

Wordlessly Goro moved aside, and without hesitation, Akira stepped into the room.

Goro closed the door behind him. As Akira watched, he turned back around, and when he redirected his gaze to meet Akira’s eyes Akira almost jumped, because Goro…

Goro looked like he wanted to eat Akira alive.

 _Oh._ A shiver ran down Akira’s spine.

“So,” Akira said, leaning against the wall in an attempt to be casual. His mouth opened and began assembling words into sentences out of its own volition. “Those are some nice curtains. I don’t think I have the same curtains in my room. Actually, I might, but–”

Goro’s hand found its way to the light switch on the wall, near Akira’s head, and clicked it off.

“Ah,” Akira said.

Goro looked different in the dark of the room, with the moonlight from the window coming just to his shoulders before retreating, leaving his face as he looked at Akira shrouded in darkness. But when he stepped in front of Akira, cornering him there against the wall, so close that they were almost nose-to-nose, it became possible to see his eyes, which were trained on Akira’s own and unblinking.

Akira swallowed.  

“Shut up, Akira,” Goro said tenderly.

* * *

 Akira shut up for a while.

* * *

 Somehow, Goro’s bed felt a lot more comfortable than Akira’s own. Probably that was because the last time he’d slept in his own room Ryuji had been pummeling him in his sleep. But hell, Akira didn’t want to think about Ryuji right now.

He was far more interested in looking at Goro. Finally, he could do so without feeling as if he was crossing a line. Akira turned over, propping his head up with his hand, so he could stare properly.

Goro looked so beautiful in repose, Akira thought, with his eyes closed and his hair fanning out on the pillow. The curtains allowed some moonlight to fall in a stripe across his face and chest, softening the look of him. Akira thought he could probably gaze at Goro like that forever, to make up for all the lost time. His shutter finger ached for his camera.

However, it was also important that he gloat. “Heh,” Akira said.

Goro’s eyes opened at the sound of his voice. “What?” He shifted his gaze to Akira, lazy and heavy-lidded.

Akira grinned broadly. “It’s just, remember when you said you weren’t going to sleep with me this weekend? And now–”

Under the covers, Goro kicked Akira hard in the calf.

“ _Owww!”_

Goro smiled sweetly. “You were saying?”

Akira shifted at once to move over Goro, putting his hands flat on opposite sides of Goro’s head so that he was looking down at him. “I was _saying_ that you are the devil,” Akira told him. “Your pretty face is just there to hide your true, evil nature.”

Unfazed, Goro looked up at him with a smirk turning up the side of his mouth. “Talk more about my pretty face, I implore you.”

“It does seem to hold a strange power over me,” said Akira. He leaned down and their noses bumped lightly before he kissed him, slowly and deeply and with the kind of singular, especially focused attention that he knew Goro would appreciate, that Akira wanted to give.

Everything about Goro was difficult, sometimes sharp-edged, sometimes enigmatic, but this seemed so easy– this banter, these little compliments, this affection. And even easier, now that they’d crossed this line.

Akira was caught up in infatuation and very aware of it, but he couldn’t shake a strange kind of double-feeling. Because touching Goro made him remember so much– the childish giddiness of the spring of their relationship, when they’d just started to fall for one another, and the end of everything, when they walked away for what each assumed would be the last time. Akira was there, twenty-six years old and in the sheets with Goro, and he was a college kid with a crush that was turning into something deeper, and he was somewhere outside of it all, watching things end and begin again. It was strange to think about how much power Goro had over him in that sense, how much feeling he could evoke with just a touch.

They pulled away lazily. Akira fell back onto the bed with a sigh, smiling when Goro turned his head to look at him.

“Anyway,” Goro murmured, “I simply changed my mind. It happens.”

“It _happened_ because I captivate you,” Akira cooed. “I fascinate you. I enthrall you.”

“You _annoy_ me,” Goro said, but he moved closer to Akira and lay his head on top of Akira’s chest, under his chin. Akira reached over and ran his hand across the top of Goro’s spine, down the muscles of his back, before pulling him closer with a firm arm. Goro made a contented noise, and Akira struggled to contain his wide smile. He remembered well how much Goro liked to be held. “You’re so cute, you know that?” he found himself saying. “Who gave you the right?”

Goro looked at him and flashed a megawatt smile. “The devil, obviously. Didn’t you just say so?”

Akira sent silent thanks to Satan.

They were quiet for a while, calm and contemplative, before Akira spoke again. “You know, I am definitely not complaining, but I really didn’t expect this to happen when I said we should be friends.” He moved his hand up to tease the strands of Goro’s hair. He kind of missed when it was longer; it was easier to run his fingers through. “I thought I’d just get your email. Your LINE ID, at most.”

“LINE?”

“What the kids use nowadays. Not important. Goro, I…” Akira paused before deciding to soldier on. “I have to ask you something.” It demanded to be said. “Does this mean anything?”

Goro was silent for a moment before replying, slightly ominously, from Akira’s point of view, “What would you like to hear?”

“Just the truth. What I always want from you.”

After a moment, Goro pulled away from Akira and moved onto his side so he was facing him. Akira turned, too, so then they were looking right at each other.

“Akira,” Goro said frankly. “Listen. I know I’m the one here who, ah…”

“Propositioned me,” Akira supplied.

Goro huffed. “Don’t make me sound like some kind of harlot.”

“Did you just say _harlot_?”  

“Anyway,” Goro said loudly, “I’m the one who asked you into my room, so I’d like to take responsibility and–”

“Oh my God, you did _not_ just say _take responsibility_.”

“That’s not– You know what I–” It was so fun to fluster Goro.  

“Okay, okay, go on, sorry,” Akira said, still grinning.

Goro looked like a kicked puppy, but he cut his eyes at Akira and continued. “What I _meant to say_ is that it was a decision made on…  impulse, and I thought that was understood. I’m sorry if–”

“No, wait.” Akira realized suddenly how he could have been misinterpreted “I get that. I wasn’t really under any illusions about what you meant.” He grinned slyly. “I mean, I was pleasantly surprised that you apparently can’t seem to keep your hands off me, but–”

“Akira.”

“Right, sorry. Okay, okay. To continue, I get that there wasn’t actually much meaning to what just happened, so let me rephrase what I said.” Akira took a breath. “ _Could_ this mean anything?”

The few seconds of silence that followed felt expectant, but Akira wasn’t nervous. He knew there were only a few things Goro could say, and he felt prepared to accept any of them. Before he let himself really feel, he wanted to hear what Goro wanted.

Goro bit his lip. “Akira, I’m attracted to you. If I wasn’t, we wouldn’t be here right now. And I’m not opposed to talking about this, not at all. But–”

“Knew there’d be a _but_ ,” Akira couldn’t help but say.

“Several _but_ s, actually. There are things we should think about. First–”

_Oh, great, a list._

“You have a job that keeps you away from Japan.”

“...I guess that’s a pretty big but,” Akira admitted.

“If we were to… go on with this,” Goro said after a pause, “that would make it difficult.”

Akira sighed. “I know.” Maybe he was less prepared for all outcomes than he’d thought, because Goro’s words, reasonable as they were, were starting to affect him.

“We should also consider the nature of the situation. By that I mean–”  

“Ooh, let me try,” Akira cut in, and when Goro frowned he backtracked and said, “Sorry, I know you’re serious. But I know what you mean. We’ve only been here for a few days, and there’s a weird mood, what with the wedding, and just Venice being Venice, and–” he thought of Goro sitting next to him on the gondola– “other things that happened, and it all feels rushed. And a little… surreal, almost.”

“Yes, exactly,” Goro agreed. “Our surroundings are conducive to getting carried away. And also…” He paused. “I know saying so might be harsh, but, Akira, our relationship ended for a reason.”

Akira had to wince; there was nothing untrue about that, but hearing it still hurt.

“A reason,” Goro continued gently, “that can’t simply be attributed to timing.”

“I know. Trust me, I understand that perfectly. But I just… Honestly, I don’t want you out of my life just yet. And I told you that.”

“You did, and I told you that I felt the same. But you said that with the intent to establish friendship. Just look at us now.” Goro smiled a little. “Is it even possible for us to simply be friends?”

“...You asked me something like that once.”

“And what did you say?”

“I think I said ‘probably not’,” Akira admitted.

“Then,” Goro said with finality, “there you have it.”

“But–” Akira started to argue.

Goro reached out and pressed a finger to Akira’s lips. “Hush, I wasn’t finished. All of that aside… I already told you, didn’t I? That looking at you brings the future to mind. I’m… not really in a rush to let go, either.” The hand that was silencing him moved to his cheek and the touch became a caress.

It felt so nice. Akira’s heartbeat picked up; Goro had said that word again: _future._ “You can’t just keep saying that,” Akira mumbled.

“Hmm, can’t I?” Goro said, teasing.

 _No,_ Akira thought, _because it really, really makes me feel like I could fall in love with you again, just like that._

For a moment they were silent before Akira spoke again. “So…” He thought he’d come up with something to say after that, but it seemed he’d really run out of words for the time being.

“Akira,” Goro blurted; there was something new and urgent in the way he spoke. “I like– spending time with you, quite a lot, and I’m aware that we just talked through several reasons why pursuing a relationship would be impractical, but I just–

“Let me try to explain something.” He took a breath. “Whenever I’ve let desire carve my path, I tend to pursue its object without much regard for the consequences. What I mean is that when I want something, I always become… irrational.”

“Yup,” Akira said.

“Well, don’t _agree_.”

 _It is pretty true, though_ , Akira thought, but kept it to himself.

“And– you–” Goro paused and was silent for a moment. He closed his eyes for a moment, and after opening them again, he wasn’t looking at Akira. “I can’t seem to help but want you... more than other people. I always feel so much for you. Whether positively or negatively, and it’s… You play on that weakness of mine.”

Goro was pouting again in that peculiar way of his, his lip curled and his expression petulant. It was ridiculously cute. The way he spoke, confessional and with more than just a hint of embarrassment, made Akira want to kiss him again, hard, and never let go. To think that he had the privilege, even now, of being the one to make Goro lose a little bit of control, the one who made Goro _want._ The thought seemed like it would never stop being thrilling. Especially since Akira wanted Goro just as badly.

“Would you say something, please?” Goro almost snapped, then, but the way he faltered at the end made it clear there was nothing vitriolic about it.

Akira carefully spoke up. “Okay. I think you and I… have something. I know it wouldn’t be smart to say that just because we’ve both changed, things will definitely work out this time around, if we decide to… try things again. And both of our lives are complicated right now. But… I don’t know. I like you.” It felt hard to articulate anything more than that. What were the right words for what he felt? I like you, _still?_ I like you _again?_ “And more than that, I’m really willing to try. Are you?”

“Yes,” Goro said, and the promptness of his reply made Akira’s chest feel all fluttery. “Yes, I am, and I want to. But I– I just…” He sounded torn. “Every cell in my body is telling me this is unwise.”  

The edge of distress he could feel from Goro made Akira try harder to think of the right thing to say. There had to be something. There had to be some way that he could find for them.

Maybe he was making it harder than it had to be. With that in mind, Akira spoke. “When I asked you… the first time, I asked you to just give us a chance. Right?”

“I remember that, yes,” Goro replied, cautious.

“So how about this?” Akira took a breath.”Let’s take another chance, but we can just… stay in touch at first. You know, talk. No commitments or anything yet. I know it won’t be super easy, but I don’t think it’s too much to ask. Because I still want to be in contact with you. And if it works out, then… I mean, we’ll see.”

“No commitments yet,” Goro repeated. He smiled a little half-smile. “You don’t sound terribly confident.”

“I’m not, not really,” Akira confessed, “but I really am sure that I want to try. And that I’d like things to work. But for now… we shouldn’t rush anything. I think that’s the right thing to do.”  

“...All right,” Goro agreed. “I… yes. That… makes sense to me. I…”

It felt like college again, to see Goro extend so much care over which words to pick that he stumbled over them. Akira felt so much affection building for him in his chest that it felt like it would burst.

“It’s not something I’m used to, but if it’s you, I wouldn’t mind taking that kind of chance,” Goro finally said. He smiled at Akira, a quiet, hard-won smile. His eyes were still warm when he added, softly, "Though I wish things could be… a little simpler.”  
  
"Let's pretend they are," Akira said, and there were so many other things he wanted to say, but the words caught in his throat. “In the time we have left.”  
  
"That’s a dangerous thing to say," Goro said, a little amused, but he reached over and held Akira’s cheek again. Akira leaned into the touch and made a small, pleased noise.

Goro laughed quietly. “Still just like a cat.” He moved his thumb up to Akira’s temple, near his lashes, and Akira obediently fluttered his eyes closed. Without sight, there was plenty of opportunity to focus just on Goro’s touch, to let the feeling of his hand shape Akira’s world. Goro’s thumb moved gently over Akira’s eyelids and across the bridge of his nose. Akira thought of how he’d looked at himself in the mirror and tried to measure the ways he’d changed, to record all the little differences from the person he’d once been. Was Goro now taking note of those same changes?

“You say something dangerous, too," Akira said. His voice came out low and full of intent.

“...All right.” Goro’s hand left his face, the loss of his touch like the momentary brush of a feather against Akira’s cheek, and something in his tone made Akira open his eyes. Goro regarded him. “How’s this for dangerous? My flight leaves in three hours.”

Akira broke away and jolted upright with a rustle of sheets. “What?!”

Goro blinked at his reaction but shifted languidly to sit up as well before looking at him. “I’ve had a meeting with a potential client scheduled for quite some time, so I booked the earliest flight out.”

“And you– well, when do you have to be at the airport?” All relaxed, comfortable feelings had… yeah, pretty much vanished.

“Oh, in about two hours.” Goro didn’t sound very concerned.

“And the water bus takes an hour to– shit! We barely have time.” Akira glanced around wildly before rising from the bed.

“Time for what?” Goro said skeptically.

Akira bent over to gather his clothes up from the floor. “You have to say goodbye to everybody.”

“...Say goodbye?” Goro scrunched his eyebrows together. “Is that necessary? When I have the option, I always prefer to utilize the French exit–”

“Ew, what? No.” Akira came over to the edge of the bed again, leaning over to look Goro in the eyes. “C’mon, I’m sure some people are still awake. It’ll be fun.”  

“Fun,” Goro repeated dubiously. He frowned. He seemed to be thinking very hard to find a reason to get out of it.

“C’mon,” Akira wheedled.

Goro chewed at the inside of his cheek. “I can’t see a purpose to it, in all honesty, but if you’re so insistent, then… I suppose it couldn’t hurt.”

“Exactly!” Akira beamed at him. “Also, I need to use your shower.”

Goro sighed.

* * *

First up was Futaba, who was of course still awake.

“Seriously, I can hear your music from here,” Akira remarked, standing just inside her room with Goro next to him.

“It has to be loud. It’s my concentration music,” Futaba said, tugging off her headphones and blinking at them. “Kinda in the zone right now, so–” She looked closely at Akira, then at Goro, and narrowed her eyes. “You two...”

Akira coughed.

“ _Ugh_ ,” Futaba said. She rolled her eyes at Goro. “And to think I thought you were an ice prince.”

“That’s…” Goro’s face, to Akira’s pleasure, had begun to turn red.  

Akira grinned, but cleared his throat. “Anyway, Goro’s leaving.”

“Huh? Already?”

Goro seemed a little contrite. “Yes, I have business to attend to back home.”

“Hmm,” Futaba said, chewing on her lip. She looked at Akira, and then back at Goro. “You won’t be there for breakfast, even?”

“No, I’m afraid not.”

“...Too bad.” She squinted at Goro. “I think if I had some more time, I could figure you out.”

“Figure me out?” Goro repeated, and laughed. “I assure you I’m not so difficult a study.”

Akira guffawed.

Goro’s head swiveled towards him. “Something to say, Akira?”

“Oh, we don’t have time for all the things I have to say.”

“You live in Tokyo, right?” Futaba said suddenly, addressing Goro, and when he nodded, she added, “If you’re ever near Yongen-Jaya, come by Leblanc. It’s a coffee shop, my dad runs it. I’m there a lot. It’s a good place to get some work done.”

“That’s kind of you to offer,” Goro responded, surprised. “Thank you.”

Futaba grinned at Akira. “Trust me to keep tabs on your boy-toy, Akira!”

“I’m… still here,” Goro said.

“Don’t say _boy-toy_ again, but thanks,” Akira replied. “Well, we should get going.”

“Right. Ah… goodbye, Sakura,” Goro said with a short bow.

Futaba gave him a thumbs-up. “See ya!”

“I suppose that was fulfilling,” Goro admitted when they’d left her room. “She’s a little… devious, isn’t she?”

“Yup. So you’ll get along.” Akira knocked at the next door he’d just led them to.

“Whose room is this?” Goro asked, and got his answer when the door swung open and they came face-to-face with Ryuji.

“Do you know what time it is, dude? You just disappeared, and–” Ryuji suddenly caught sight of Goro. “Oh. You’re here?”

“What’s on your face?” Akira asked, bemused. Ryuji’s face was covered by a thick, dark paste.

“It’s for my skin! It’s–”

“Ah, is that mask charcoal-based?” Goro piped up. “I use a similar one in my routine.”

“Oh, for real?” Ryuji regarded him approvingly. “Yeah, this is the best one I’ve tried.”

“It really does wonders,” Goro said cheerfully. He looked at Akira. “You should consider taking better care of your skin, you know.”

Akira cut his eyes at him.

“Well, anyway– why are you two standing out here?” Ryuji asked, folding his arms.

“Goro’s leaving,” Akira said for the second time.

“What? Like right now?” Ryuji turned to Goro.

“I have an early-morning flight, yes.”

“Oh, okay. Well…” He looked back and forth between Akira and Goro. “You two gonna stay in touch?”

Surprised, Akira answered, “Well, yeah.”

“All right, then.” Ryuji stepped forward and jabbed a finger in Akira’s chest. “You’ve got no excuse!”

“No excuse?”

Ryuji nodded emphatically. “If you can make time for Akechi, you can make time for me and Ann. We miss you. So use that group chat, okay?”

Akira smiled sheepishly. “I will. I’ll be better, I promise.”

“And you–” Ryuji turned to Goro. “Don’t be afraid to call this guy out for not responding, too.” He gestured to Akira. “Maybe you can knock some sense into him.”

A corner of Goro’s mouth quirked upwards. “Duly noted. Thank you.”

“Hey, don’t gang up on me,” Akira protested.

Ryuji ignored him. “Well, have a good flight, man.” He held out his hand for a fist-bump. Goro regarded it a little uncertainly before raising his own fist and knocking it against Ryuji’s.

“I’ll be on my way, then,” Goro said. “Goodbye, Sakamoto.”

“Bye, Akechi.” Ryuji looked at Akira. “See you in the morning, dude.”

He closed the door. Akira took a moment to think. It was kind of embarrassing to have Ryuji chastising him in front of Goro, but to hear them speak to each other… it was like Goro really was a part of Akira’s world.

Goro looked at Akira. “Any other stops on this tour you’ve planned?”

“Not really.” Akira stretched. “I don’t want to bother Ann or Makoto, so… well, there’s Okumura and Kitagawa. Think they’re still out and about?”

Goro shrugged. “I suppose we could check, though it’s about time I should be leaving.”

“Right.” Akira considered it. “Let’s get your stuff and go down to the lobby.”

They stopped by Goro’s room so he could pick up his luggage before heading downstairs in the elevator.

 _Perfect,_ Akira thought as they stepped out, because he’d immediately caught sight of Kitagawa and Okumura. The two of them were sitting at a table, the only ones still in the dining area. They were speaking to each other, but looked up when Goro and Akira approached.

“Hello, you two!” Okumura greeted them.

“You’re both still awake?” Goro asked.

“It seems neither of us could sleep,” Kitagawa answered.

“You guys found tea,” Akira noticed, looking down into Okumura’s cup.

“Yes, from the kitchen,” she replied. “You wouldn’t want any, would you?”

“Oh, no, but thanks. Actually–” Akira gestured to Goro, and said, once again, “Goro’s leaving.”  

“Yes,” Goro confirmed. “My flight departs in about two hours.”

“Oh!” Okumura rested her chin in her hands and regarded them with wide eyes. “These last few days have passed so quickly with everything that’s been happening. I almost can’t believe it.”

“I feel much the same. But I had a wonderful time. You truly did a commendable job putting things together, Okumura.”

“Please, call me Haru.”

“Ah– I beg your pardon?”

Okumura smiled. “I should say we’ve gotten to know each other well enough, now! And I’m sure I’ll be seeing you in the future around Makoto and Ann. I’d like us to be friends.”

“That’s kind of you. Well, then. Thank you, Haru.” Goro gave her a cautious smile of his own. “I’d be honored if you’d call me Goro.”

“It would be my pleasure!”

Akira felt strangely proud.

“Very well,” Kitagawa spoke up, looking at Goro. “I wish you a safe flight. Please feel free to contact me any time once you’ve returned home. A great many artists who frequent my studio are often in dire need of models, and surely no one would turn down a subject such as yourself.”

“How... flattering,” Goro said slowly. “I’ll keep it in mind. Although– I’d probably be more interested in seeing your art than modeling. That painting from earlier was superb.”

“Of course. You’re welcome to come by and peruse my work.”

“I wish I could see your stuff, too,” Akira sighed. “Too bad I won’t be able to for a while.”

“When will you next be in Japan?” Kitagawa questioned.

“Er…” Akira glanced at Goro. “Not sure.”

Goro fidgeted.

Okumura looked between him and Goro, her eyebrows rising by just a fraction of an inch. Akira scratched the back of his head. Goro looked elsewhere.

Everyone sat in slightly awkward silence for a moment before Goro said with abrupt finality, “Well, I really should be going.”

“Oh– yes! Please, don’t let us keep you.” Okumura stood up from her chair. “I’m so glad we had a chance to say goodbye!”

“Yeah, and to think he was just gonna go without a word,” Akira piped up. Goro shot him a glare.

Okumura looked dismayed. “No! Was that really your plan, Goro?”

Goro laughed awkwardly. “Well, it is late. And I thought I shouldn’t bother anyone.”

“Farewells are important,” Kitagawa remarked. “After all, we should seize every opportunity to wish those close to our hearts well.”

“Exactly,” Akira said, nudging Goro.

“Kurusu changed your mind, then?” Okumura smiled at Akira. “It looks like he’s been a good influence on you, Goro!”

“A good influence,” Goro repeated. He looked at Akira and appeared to consider it. “...Well. Maybe you’re right.” As Akira processed how unsettlingly warm and gooey those words made him feel, Goro continued. “I’m glad I took his advice. It was nice to see you all before I left.”

Kitagawa stood, then, too, and bowed. “I am pleased you saw the value in a proper parting. Have a pleasant journey.”

Goro bowed back, and gave a patented smile to Okumura and Kitagawa. “Goodbye, then.”

They wished each other well, and Akira confirmed the two of them would be at breakfast. Then, it was time for Goro to leave the hotel.

Outside, a calm breeze was blowing to ease the thick air of the warm night; it felt good on Akira’s skin, in his hair. Standing near the short bridge, he shut his eyes briefly, to let himself feel, and when he opened them Goro was looking at him.

“So,” Akira said.

“So,” Goro echoed. He took his phone out of his pocket and unlocked it before tapping through a few screens. “The next water bus leaves in fifteen–”   

“Goro!”

They both turned around.

It was Makoto’s voice. She was closing the door behind her and stepping towards them, wearing a nightdress and a shawl wrapped around her shoulders.

“Oh!” Goro looked surprised.

“I remembered when your flight left.” She smoothed down the folds of her dress before smiling at Goro. “I thought I’d see you off.”

“You shouldn’t have bothered,” Goro said, but he looked pleased.

“I won’t have you telling me what to do,” Makoto replied, sounding a little stubborn, but when she came forward she didn’t hesitate in wrapping Goro in a short hug.

Their embrace lasted for a moment before Goro pulled away, laying his hands on her shoulder gently before dropping them back to his sides. “I’ll see you soon,” he told her.

“Yes, you will. Have a safe flight. And thank you, for everything.”

“You’ve nothing to thank me for. I’m overjoyed that I was a part of this.”

“It wouldn’t have been the same without you at all.” And then she looked to the side and finally seemed to register the sight of Akira. “Oh. You’re here too.”

Akira scratched his chin. “Yup.”

Makoto actually smirked before she had the chance to flatten her face into a neutral expression. Turning to Goro, she said “We’ll discuss this later.”

 _"This?_ _”_ Goro tried, but when Makoto just raised an eyebrow he sighed. “I suppose I don’t have a choice.”

“None at all.” She continued to maintain composure for another few seconds before making a small _snrk_ sound. “My God, I just…”

“I–” Goro began.

But the snort turned into giggling, and then she was nearly doubled over laughing, clutching her chest. “To think–” She attempted a breath. “–your romantic _drama_ would come back to haunt my wedding–”  

"All _right_ ,” Goro said, sounding grumpy and clearly embarrassed.  

Akira grinned, stepped over, and put a hand on his shoulder. “It’s all right, honey. Don’t be so shy.”

That set Makoto off again, and the stink-eye Goro gave him was well worth it.

As Makoto collected herself, Goro turned back to him. “Akira…”

“Yeah?”

“I– really need to be going.”

“Right,” Akira said, biting his lip. _Man, this feels… so weird._

“But…” Goro smirked, sudden and sharp, and pulled all of Akira’s attention towards him again. “You should know that I don’t intend to look away from you so easily as I did before. I hope you’re prepared.”

Was that a challenge in his voice? Akira squared his shoulders and met Goro’s gaze head-on. “More than.”

“I’m pleased to hear it. And…”

After a moment, he reached for Akira’s hands and took them in his own. Akira held his breath for just a fraction of a second before releasing it.  

“Despite everything, I’m… very glad I got a chance to see you again,” Goro said softly. His hands felt cool in Akira’s, a little detail that somehow seemed idiosyncratically Goro.

“Thanks,” Akira said, meeting his eyes. “For talking things out with me, and giving me a chance. For letting me get to know you again.”

“When I first saw you here, you know,” Goro murmured, “I thought I’d have to plan the weekend around avoiding you. I didn’t want to have to think about… us. But… I don’t know.” He laughed a little. “I’m glad you changed my mind.”

“Yeah, you fell for my grand plan to make you like me again,” Akira teased. “Listen… I’m really grateful I got to meet the person you turned out to be.” He lowered his voice, and didn’t hesitate to turn up the charm. “I really like this Goro. A lot.”

Goro’s cheeks turned a little pink at that, obvious even in the dim light.

They looked at each other, both smiling a little stupidly. Akira wanted to touch Goro, so badly.

Goro must have felt the same way, because he stepped just a little closer. “Since we’re… taking things slow, as it were, I probably shouldn’t kiss you goodbye. But…”

“Little late for that, don’t you think?” Akira said, and before Goro could change his mind he took his face in his hands and pressed their lips together.

Goro reacted immediately, his arms moving easily around Akira’s waist. It was a deep kiss, slow, almost hesitant. Akira knew Goro was thinking the same thing as he was.  _This might be the last time I get to kiss him._  

It made Akira not want to let go, but eventually it had to come to an end.

“I put all my information on your phone.” Goro said when they pulled away, his voice quiet and so, so close.

“I’ll be in touch,” Akira said. “Definitely.” He thought about it– Goro waiting for an answer from him. Goro’s name lighting up the screen of his phone.  Akira smiled.

“As will I. Then… goodbye, Akira.” He stepped back, barely giving Akira time to process the loss of proximity before turning towards Makoto.

 _Oh, yeah…_ Akira had forgotten she was there. She was watching them with her arms folded, grinning ear-to-ear.

That was probably the reason Goro cringed slightly before saying “And goodbye, Makoto. Thank you. I had a lovely time.”

“I can see that,” said Makoto, with a smirk. “Bye, Goro.”

Goro looked at her, and then at Akira for a last time, before smiling slightly. He turned around, pulling at his suitcase, his figure retreating into the night. Akira watched him until he turned a corner.

He didn’t have time to ruminate on Goro’s departure, because right after that, Makoto approached him. “So,” she said cheerfully. “You two have clearly reconciled.”

“Ha, well, you know,” Akira said with a sheepish laugh.

Makoto shook her head. “Well, we should head back inside.”

As they returned to the lobby, Makoto mentioned, “I just can’t believe something that seems like it came straight out of a rom-com took place during my wedding. But… I thought you two were only…”

Akira waited while she tried to find a way to say it.

“...indulging your baser urges?” Makoto decided.  

“Right. Well, it started just like that, but… I don’t know. It kind of…” Akira blinked. “Yeah. I don’t know what just happened, or what’s going on, really. But I do know that I like him, and I don’t think I’m willing to let this go.”

“You don’t _think_?” Makoto looked at him. “Goro is one of my closest friends, you know. I’d appreciate some more confidence.”

“Touché. All right. I don’t _want_ to let this go. But can I tell you something? At the same time, I’m kind of… scared.”

Makoto’s look said _go on,_ so Akira did. “Goro’s the type you have to be careful around. And this… doesn’t seem like it classifies as careful, so I’m… a little freaked out, honestly. But just not giving it a try would feel so wrong. There’s… this sounds dumb, but there’s still a connection between us.” Akira looked at his feet. “I know there is, and I know he feels it too. It’s exciting, but…” He couldn’t hold back a nervous laugh. “Yeah, I’m kind of freaking out. Just a little.”

Makoto put a hand to her chin. “I understand your feelings, but I’d say it’s normal to be scared. It’s even encouraging, in a sense. After all, the fact that you’re nervous means you already care enough to try your best to do this right.”

“Whatever _this_ is,” Akira said wryly. He ran a hand through his hair.

Makoto smiled. “Goro really does like you. I can tell. I’ve only just met you, but the way you two act around each other... I think you could be good for Goro. I have faith in both of you.”

Akira smiled slightly. “That makes me feel a little better. Thanks for hearing me out.”

“It’s my pleasure. And you know, Akira… I’d be happy if we could be friends. I want to get to know everyone who Ann is close to.”

“I’d really like that, too,” Akira said. They smiled at each other.

“Well,” Makoto said, “I should return to my room.”

“Ann asleep?” Akira asked.

“Yes,” said Makoto, an affectionate, faraway smile appearing on her lips at the mention of her wife’s name. “I’m not very tired, myself, but I’ll check on her.”

“Yeah, I won’t keep you. Goodnight, Makoto.”

“Goodnight, Akira.”

* * *

Breakfast the next morning was a peaceful affair. Of course, Akira could barely keep his eyes open. He’d only really been able to get a few hours of sleep after Goro had left.

Now he gave in to the urge to rest his head on Futaba’s shoulder. “When does our flight leave again?”

“Stop asking me every five minutes,” Futaba told him, gently shaking him off, “and it’s still in two hours, at noon.”

Akira sighed and let his head slump forwards instead. “I hope I can get a decent amount of sleep on the plane.”

“Are you guys taking the same flight?” Ryuji, sitting next to Futaba, asked. “I thought Akira was going to Ecuador.”

Akira had just gotten the call informing him of his next assignment that morning. His job was paying for the last-minute trip, but at first, he’d requested for it to be out of Japan so he could accompany Futaba.

Futaba, though, had stopped him. “It’s alright,” she’d assured him. “If it’s just a connecting flight, I can go by myself. It’d be stupid to make you go all the way back to Japan just for me.” Akira had already asked her a million times if she’d really be okay, but Futaba was adamant, and the steely, determined look in her eye gave Akira comfort. So it turned out that Akira and Futaba would be flying together to a layover in Zurich before going their separate ways. Akira explained it all to Ryuji.

“Akira, can I have your Danish?” That was from Ann after he’d finished talking, looking at him expectantly from the other side of the long table that had been set up in the dining area. Her hair was tied up in the kind of rushed ponytail that indicated a hurried morning.

Akira smiled lovingly at her. “No.”

Ann turned to Ryuji. “Can I have _your_ Danish?”

“Can I have your quiche?” Ryuji replied, without missing a beat.

“Hmmm… okay!” Ann used her fork to deposit her food onto Ryuji’s plate. It was as if high school had never ended.

“Should I order you something?” Makoto asked from next to her, looking amused.

“Nah,” Ann replied with her mouth full of pastry. “We bond through bartering food.”

“Interesting. There’s a lot I have yet to learn about this group, I suppose.”

Ann beamed at her. “I can’t wait to teach you everything.”

They ate and made conversation for another few moments. Akira had just taken a sip of orange juice when Ann spoke up.

“Oh, yeah, Akira!” She leaned forward, elbows on the table and chin in her hands. “Did you hook up with Akechi?”

Akira almost choked on his juice.

Everyone on that side of the table turned to look at him, but it was Ryuji who almost turned purple, shot straight up, and practically yelled “You hooked up with Akechi?”

It was loud enough to catch the attention of everyone else in the party. Along the table, most conversation suddenly died. Akira looked up to find he was the object of several stares. Okumura looked as if she were about to break her neck peering over at him from the other side of the table. And Sae Niijima was squinting at him, stone-faced and radiating a kind of energy that made Akira want to run and hide.

Akira squirmed under her gaze and looked to his side to stare Ryuji down. “Even if I hadn’t, now everybody definitely thinks I did.”

Futaba smiled toothily at Akira. “What, you’re not glad people are expressing interest in your sordid romantic life?”

“So you _did_?” Ryuji demanded, and groaned when Akira gave a tiny nod.

“All right,” Makoto tried. “Let’s all just settle down.”

“Makoto, you don’t look surprised. Did you _know_? And you didn’t tell me?” Ann gasped at her. “Betrayal!”

“I was _trying_ to respect Akira’s privacy, although…” Makoto glanced around the table. “Looks like that effort’s been rendered moot.”

“When you guys came to my door last night, I didn’t know you’d just–” Ryuji continued to sputter.

“Dude,” Futaba commented. “It was kinda obvious.”

Ryuji put his head in his hands. “First you spend the whole day with him. Then you sleep with him.”

Akira scratched his head. “Well, the opportunity presented itself.”

“You know what the worst thing is?!” Ryuji went on.

“What?” Akira said warily.

Ryuji deflated. “You clearly thought you had to keep it from me, man! Look, I know I’m not Ann–”

“Hey, what’s that mean?” Ann cut in.

“It means you’re good for advice and empathy and stuff.” Ryuji glared at her. “Compliment!”

“Oh,” Ann said, mollified. “Continue.”

“Anyway, I’m not the best at that stuff, and I freak out sometimes, but it’s just because I care about you, okay? You can tell me things. It’s my job as a friend to be there for you, dude.”

Akira relaxed a little and smiled at Ryuji. He was right. There was no need to walk on eggshells around his best friend. He knew that Ryuji would respect the choices Akira made– even if he complained about them. _Then again, I_ am _basically trying to get back together with Goro Akechi. I can see how that’s cause for concern._ “You’re right. Thanks, Ryuji. I won’t forget that."

“You _better_ not,” Ryuji told him. He sighed. “Well, Akechi’s a prick, but he has good taste in skincare.”

“Since I’m being honest…” Akira looked around at his friends. “I’ll tell you. Goro and I decided we’re going to keep in touch. We’re just gonna talk for now, though, through IM or whatever. See how things go.”

Futaba folded her fingers under her chin. “That seems sorta risky, Akira.”

“I know. I know how it sounds. But I think it’s a risk worth taking.”

Futaba still didn’t look very convinced. “You’re prepared, right? For if it doesn’t work out? Again?”

Akira sighed, long and resigned. “Yeah. I am. I have to be, don’t I? But listen… it’s not anything, yet, really. It’s just… We’re going to play it by ear.”

Futaba looked incredulous. “Doesn’t that drive you crazy, though?”

“I mean, I don’t think it’s that weird,” Ryuji said. “Plenty of people talk for a while or take it slow before actually dating. It’s like you’re gettin’ used to each other. Right?”

“But this is your ex-boyfriend,” Futaba pressed. “It’s not just a totally new person.”

“You know,” Makoto interrupted. “From what I know about Goro, I’d normally say this type of casual correspondence wouldn’t be well-suited to him. But I think Akira and Goro have a solid understanding between them. The fact that they already know each other well could actually help here.”

Akira gave her a grateful look before turning to Futaba again. “Yeah. Trust me, I can handle whatever happens,” he assured her. “We both can. We’re not that young anymore.”

Futaba shook her head, but she sat back and regarded him. “I’m still _ehhh_ about it, but if you’re sure...”

He smiled at her. “I am.”

Soon enough, everyone went back to eating without much further talk of Akira and Goro. After breakfast was over, Akira sunk into a chair in the lobby and scrolled aimlessly through apps on his phone. He still felt tired. Before the rush to pack up and leave began, he wanted to indulge himself with some time spent doing nothing.

Someone walking by caught his eye from his periphery after a while, and he looked up just in time to see Sae passing by.

“Hey,” he said to catch her attention, figuring he might as well make conversation, considering he was leaving soon.

She turned and saw him. “Ah, hello, Kurusu. How are you?”

“Great, thanks. And you?”

“I’m well.” Sae paused. “Actually, now that I’ve caught you, I might as well ask you something that’s been on my mind..”

“Oh,” Akira said, a little nervously. “You were?”

“Yes. I don’t mean to be nosy, but judging from what we heard at breakfast today...” She folded her arms.

Damn it. He tried not to look too embarrassed as he sunk a little lower in his chair. _Seriously, thanks, Ryuji._ “Oh. Right. Uh–”

“Forgive me if I’m overstepping my bounds,” Sae continued, before he had a chance to go on, “but I simply find that… kind of behavior uncharacteristic for Goro. So. As someone who knows him well, I find it necessary to ask– what are your intentions?”  

 _Oh my God._ “It’s– uh–” Akira moved his mouth, but only a few stutters came out. He cleared his throat and spoke again. “All right. I want to get to know Goro again. I like him, and I think he likes me too. But, you know, I work outside of Japan most of the time, so… We’re just going to, uh, stay in touch. For now, everything between us is… casual.”

Sae frowned and appeared to process this for a second. Then she said, “I suppose things are different since you already know each other, but I’ve never known Goro to be casual about relationships. With him, there’s little gray area when it comes to how he feels about people.”

Akira knew it was true– if not from what he already knew about Goro, then from how during this trip, he’d seemed to switch so wholly between avoiding Akira utterly and desiring his company. “I understand that that’s the type of person Goro is. But I think we know each other well enough for us to be able to handle it.”

“Goro understands this, then? You’re both on the same page?”

Akira nodded. “We talked things over.”

“I see. Thank you for sharing that with me. But I hope you don’t intend to be frivolous with Goro’s feelings.” The slightly dangerous look from breakfast was back on her face again.

Akira suppressed a shiver. “No. Seriously. I really– I wouldn’t do that to him.” _All right, time for the charm offensive._ “Thank you, though, for your concern. I can tell you really care about Goro, and I respect that. It must mean a lot to him, too, that he has you looking out for him.”

“Oh. Well, yes.” An expression of slight surprise flitted across Sae’s features, and Akira knew his attempt had worked. “Of course. I don’t mean to intimidate you. I’m glad you both seem to be communicating with each other.” She tapped a finger against her chin, a habit that Akira realized Makoto shared with her. “I suppose there’s nothing I can tell you about Goro that you don’t know already, but… be patient with him. He’s very sharp, but at the same time, he can be fragile.” She winced. “He wouldn’t like me using that word, I imagine. Regardless, it’s the truth.”

Akira thought about how he hadn’t done the best job that he could have of considering Goro’s feelings when they were dating. But he was different now, and he was determined to be better. “Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.” He was reminded of the conversation he’d had with Makoto the previous night. It was nice to have advice from both Niijimas, and the encouragement of at least one. _Though I think Sae might not hesitate to cut my head off if I step out of line._

“I’ll let you go, then, Kurusu. Will I see you again?”

“Probably not. Futaba and I are leaving pretty soon.”

“I see. Well, then, goodbye, and have a pleasant trip.” Sae stepped closer, and Akira rose from his chair. They bowed slightly to one another.

“I’ll leave you to it,” Sae said. She gave him a rare smile before turning and walking away.

It really was good to know that Goro had people who cared about him, Akira thought. Keeping that in mind made Akira feel as if he could breathe a little easier.

He still didn’t really know what he was doing, and he was more than a little unsure. But he could imagine that it was all going to be okay, because it was Goro, and things were always a little different with Goro, weren’t they? It was just one of the reasons Akira liked him so much.

“Hey.” Akira heard Futaba’s voice before he saw her. She walked past him and threw him a glance before she continued on her way. “We have to be out of here in an hour. Make sure get your stuff soon.”

“Right,” Akira said, standing up.

* * *

“Did you forget anything?”

“No. Did _you_ forget anything?”

“I don’t know, did _you_ forget anything?”

“How about _you_ , did you _–_ ”

“I think it’s safe to say neither of you forgot anything,” Ann interrupted.

Futaba and Akira looked at each other and shrugged.  

They’d gotten all their things and were standing in the lobby. Ann, Ryuji, and Makoto were there, and Okumura had come over when she’d seen everyone gathered. Kitagawa was standing to the side and frowning off into the distance, framing something with his fingers, but Akira was pretty sure he was still a part of the group.

Futaba was holding Morgana in her arms, too. “You think they’ll let me just carry him on the water bus?” She stroked the top of his head contemplatively.

“I don’t think it should be a problem, as long as you’re carrying him the entire time,” Okumura spoke up. She came closer and bowed her head to coo at the cat.

Akira stretched and sighed. “This time, though, we should really get him into the plane the official way. I’m still not even going to ask how you did it before.”

“We’ll see,” Futaba said, which wasn’t very reassuring, but Akira decided not to argue.

Ryuji looked at Akira and cocked his head. “I’m no good at goodbyes, but… You remember what I said, man.”

“I will,” Akira said. He pulled out his phone and pointed to it. “You remember, too. Group chat.”

“Group chat,” Ryuji agreed. Then he looked at Futaba and grinned. “Hell, if I want to bother _you_ , I’ll just stake out Leblanc.”

She laughed. “Yeah, yeah. Be careful where you show your face, Sakamoto.”

From beside her, Okumura delicately cleared her throat to get Akira and Futaba’s attention. She smiled at them. “It’s been so nice meeting and both of you. And you’ve both helped me so much, without even my asking! Futaba last night, and Akira with our little kitty caper.”

“That second one was kinda my fault, though,” Futaba pointed out sheepishly.

Okumura laughed. “If anything, you made my job more lively. Oh, Futaba– you will make sure to stay in touch, won’t you? I’d love to spend time with you back home!”

“I… oh.” Futaba looked surprised. “Sure! Yeah. That would be cool.”

Okumura smiled. “I’ll be sure to come by that café your father has. I’m always up for a good cup of coffee! And the next time I take Makoto shopping, I’d love it if you came along!”

Face a little red, Futaba tugged at her earlobe. “I’m not really super fun to shop with, but yeah. I’d like that.”

“Excellent!” Okumura looked pleased. She turned to Akira. “I suppose I won’t be able to see you in Japan…”

“Probably not for a while, no,” Akira admitted.

“Regardless, I followed your Instagram account!” She beamed at him. “I’ll be able to keep up with your photos.”

“Oh, wow,” Akira laughed. “Thank you, Okumura. It was really great to meet you. Make sure you look out for Ann for me.”

“Will do,” Okumura said cheerfully.

“Hey, I don’t need anyone to–” Ann protested.

“No, of _course_ not,” Okumura assured her, with a little teasing grin.

Ann sighed. “You wound me with your sarcasm, Haru.”

“Ah,” Kitagawa said suddenly, approaching them. “Are the two of you leaving?”

“I mean, we’re standing here with our bags,” Futaba said. “So.”

“I see,” Kitagawa said seriously.

Akira smiled. “When are you leaving, Kitagawa?”

“Three hours from now. I believe I booked the same flight as Haru.” Kitagawa nodded in her direction.

Akira stretched. “Ann and Makoto– you’re leaving tomorrow, right?”

“Yes,” Makoto spoke up. “We thought it’d be nice to take our time.”

“Well,” Kitagawa said, “I believe Kurusu already knows the great extent to which I value a proper farewell.”

“Sure do,” Akira said. “So… what have you got?”

Kitagawa was silent for a moment. Then he offered, “Goodbye.”

“Classic. I like it.” Akira grinned. “Hey, Kitagawa, I should thank you. For that talk when you were painting yesterday. It helped me get some perspective.”

“Did it? I have no memory of what we discussed. I am pleased that I could help, however.”

“Hey, hey, Kitagawa,” Futaba cut in. “When we’re back in Japan, can I come see your freaky art?”

“ _Freaky?”_ Kitagawa said incredulously. “I hardly think my work deserves such an epithet! Although…” He thought about it. “I do have a series of paintings entitled _The Abyss of Feeling_. They depict many facets of the lower extremes of human emotion. Many have remarked on the visceral, harrowing effect I was attempting to convey. I suppose those could be referred to as _freaky_ , if one was being coarse.”

“Awesome,” Futaba said. “I’m so there.”

“Okay, okay, me now.” Ann stepped up to them and smiled. “I know I’ve said it a million times, but I’m so glad you guys came. You’ll always be my best friends in the world, and I don’t know what I’d do without you guys. You made this weekend so much better, and I–” All of a sudden, Ann’s face scrunched up. “I really–”

“Aw, man,” Futaba sighed.

As expected, then came the tears. “I’m so grateful! And I just… sorry, I always do this…”

Makoto placed a reassuring hand on Ann’s back.   

Futaba took Ann’s hands in hers. “I promise that back home, I’ll come see you whenever I can,” Futaba reassured her. “And I’ll come to one of your shoots like I kept saying I would.”

Ann smiled tearily. “I love you. I’ll make time for you, too! I promise.”

She enveloped Futaba in a long hug, which Futaba accepted without fuss. Then she turned to Akira, and tears sprang to her eyes again. “Akira–”

“Hey, hey,” Akira said soothingly, coming over to embrace her. “It’s okay.”

“I can’t believe,” Ann sobbed into his shoulder, “that the last time I saw you before this was– years ago! And now I don’t know when I’ll see you again!”

Akira was getting choked up himself, but he took a breath and put on a smile as he pulled away a little to look her in the eyes. “Hey. I’m going to message you all the time. And call, too. You’re going to be begging me to leave you alone, I promise.”

Ann sniffed. “I feel like I didn’t realize how much I missed you until just now.”

“Me either,” Akira confessed. “But you’re still my best friend, and I’m going to keep in even better touch.”

“Good,” Ann said. She wiped her face with Akira’s shirt.

Akira grabbed her shoulders and pushed her away at arm’s length. “Okay, ew.”

Makoto interrupted Ann’s efforts to swat vengefully at Akira with her hands by coming forward. “Akira, Futaba…” She looked at them. “Thank you so much for coming. I can see how happy you make Ann.”

“Yeah, real happy,” Ann grunted as she continued to try and put Akira in a headlock.

Makoto rolled her eyes. “Anyway, I hope I can see the two of you sometime soon.”

“When Akira comes back from wherever, whenever,” Futaba said, “we can all get lunch. My treat,” she added graciously.

“Sounds good,” Akira said, huffing as he finally detached himself from Ann. “I’m gonna empty your pockets, Futaba.”

“You couldn’t if you tried.”

“And, Akira…” Makoto smiled at him. “Good luck with Goro.”  

Akira felt his face turn warm. “Ah, thanks. So I have your blessing? Your sister was a little scary earlier.”

“You do… but if you do anything to hurt Goro, I’ll pummel you, Ann’s best friend or no.”

“Fair enough,” Akira allowed.

After everyone had wished them a safe flight and there was nothing more to say, Akira and Futaba looked at each other.

“Well,” said Futaba. “Bye.” She turned, slung her duffel bag over her shoulder, took hold of her rolling suitcase, and walked out the door.

Akira watched her go with a wry grin and turned back to everyone. “Thanks for seeing us off, everyone. We had a great time.”  

Akira may have been reluctant to leave, but any other words would be overkill. So with a final wave and a bow, he turned to follow Futaba.

The two of them crossed the short bridge and began the walk over to the water bus stop. They got there after some minutes, and their boat came moments after. Akira helped Futaba lift her luggage on board, and soon enough they were moving through the water in the way Akira had grown accustomed to over the past few days.

Without speaking, he and Futaba stood for a while on the deck and stared out at the island that was rapidly getting smaller and smaller in the distance.

“Gonna go sit down,” Futaba said after a while. “You coming?”

“I’ll just hang out here for a bit,” Akira said. “If I sit down I might fall asleep, anyway.”

“Okay, I’ll save you a seat.” Futaba went into the covered, inside area of the boat.

After making sure he had his luggage in his line of sight, Akira folded his arms on the railing. Leaning forward, he closed his eyes and let the wind tease his hair.

So much had happened over the past few days that it was disconcerting to know that he’d soon have to return to regular life, where everything would go on just as it had before. But things had changed– Ann was married, and Akira had reaffirmed his friendship with everyone. He had Goro’s contact information in his phone and a strange type of hope in his chest that felt at once cautious and bold.  

He thought about how he’d watched Goro leave, how the way they’d kissed outside of the hotel felt like a final farewell. It was all so dramatic when he thought about it. He could imagine what Sojiro would say– _You think you’re some heroine in a movie, kid?_ Akira smiled to himself. _Makoto did say we reminded her of a rom-com._  

It was true– Akira didn’t know what would happen next with Goro. But didn’t that put him right in his element? The trepidation Akira felt was eroding. _Somehow I have a good feeling about this._

And he found a new resolve within himself, too. If there was anything he’d learned during the past few days, it was that he needed to keep all the people he held dear as close to him as possible. That was something he’d known a long time ago, but almost forgotten. Now, though…

_I’m not gonna let go of anyone. Not Ryuji, not Ann, not Futaba, and not Goro… if I can help it._

It felt like a good way to think. Akira smiled, looked out at the water, and allowed himself to imagine that the future would be bright.


	11. call me back

JUNE

* * *

**from** : Kurusu Akira, akurusu@velvetmag.com  
**to** : Akechi Goro, akechi.goro@bldassociates.co  
**Subject** : hello 

Goro–  

   Hello, it’s me, contacting you by way of the miracle of technology. It’s my third day in Ecuador and I finally got time to sit down and write this. Right after we got here, though, I sent you a postcard!!! There is actually nothing written on it but I did draw a picture of Morgana, which I strongly recommend you keep as it will probably be worth a ton of money when I am a famous artist on par with the likes of da Vinci/Monet/Kitagawa etc.

   The weather here is nice right now. There’s rain, but the temperature’s pretty mild. I’ve been trying to brush up on my Spanish, it’s been a while since I had to speak any. Good thing I still have my old travel dictionary. I know I could just download a bunch of apps but apparently I am a traditionalist (yikes!) We landed in Quito, but we’ve been out traveling to some of the other cities and sites in the country. The drives are really long, but we’ve been stopping along the way, sort of playing it by ear. My editor wants this issue to have a “casual road trip vibe” or whatever the fuck. I can’t complain, though, I’ve been getting really good shots. I added some pictures to this message, if you want to see.

    I’m trying to stay in touch with friends more so I don’t get yelled at, ha ha, and okay maybe b/c I miss them so I’ve been sending a lot of selfies to our group chat. Futaba says she’s tired of looking at my face now. She doesn’t realize her words hurt. :’((((

   I’m usually terrible at emails but typing words at you feels really easy. Weird, huh? Anyway I have to go out again soon, but I want to know how you’re doing. Please write back posthaste and give a detailed summary of what your day was like even including all the boring lawyerly parts about doing paperwork and solving crimes and signing things and helping people cheat their taxes.

 XOXOXOXO Akira

* * *

 **from** : Akechi Goro, akechi.goro@bldassociates.co  
**to** : Kurusu Akira, akurusu@velvetmag.com  
**Subject** : RE: hello 

Akira,

   I am afraid you continue to be under some misconceptions regarding my line of work, as lawyers do not “solve crimes”, despite what popular media may indicate to the contrary. I do often assist with tax fraud, however. (That was a joke).

    I received your postcard in the mail. Thank you for the compelling portrait of Morgana. I’ve taken the liberty of taping it up in my office. Photo attached.

    Your photos are beautiful. It’s interesting to see your work attempt to capture the entire essence of a place. I remember you used to take pictures of smaller things: studies of people’s faces, or found objects, or quiet corners that always made me feel at peace. And now your camera captures different subjects– ones that are grand, overarching, brimming with life. Still compelling, but in quite a different way. You truly have a talent.

    You’d like to hear about my day? It progressed much like any other. I woke up at six, took the train over to the office and spent the day at work. I’m set to appear in court in only two days, so I’ve been quite busy. Makoto is working with me on this particular case, which is always a pleasure, since we know each other well enough for creating strategies and discussing information to be easy. She tends to become more tense and wound-up as deadlines and such approach, which has the strange effect of calming my own nerves. Usually I take out some time before or after work to exercise at the gym, but today I unfortunately didn’t have the opportunity and went straight home. Right now I’m drinking tea and only half-paying attention to the television. My life isn’t as interesting as yours, I’m afraid.

    I was thinking about this at the wedding, but it still surprises me that you’ve managed to stay in touch with old friends for this long. They must have made a tremendous impact on you back then. I find myself unable to relate– when I attended high school I didn’t see my peers as anything other than competition. I don’t know if I can really blame myself for that attitude, however. Teenagers tend to be annoying.

    As for selfies, if Futaba’s had her fill of your face, then feel free to send some to me. I wouldn’t mind.

Yours,  
Akechi Goro

* * *

[03:04]  _Akira_ : hey  
[03:04]  _Akira_ : finally caught you online  
[03:06] _G_ _oro_ : Oh, hello. Perfect timing. I’m on the train home from work.  
[03:06] _Akira_ : nice  
[03:07] _Akira_ : are u used to this messenger yet  
[03:07] _Goro_ : I haven’t really used it, but it looks to have a pretty basic interface.  
[03:08] _Akira_ : :)  
[03:08] _Akira_ : it’s the one I use now to keep in touch w everyone  
[03:08] _Goro_ : So you make everyone download the same app?  
[03:08] _Akira_ : yes and they all do it because they love me  
[03:09] _Goro_ : I fear your power.   
[03:10] _Akira_ : hey look at this _[Attached: IMG_578537.jpg]  
_ [03:11]  _Akira_ : we found this lizard  
[03:11] _Goro_ : Stunning.  
[03:11] _Akira_ : right  
[03:12] _Goro_ : I’m actually very fond of reptiles. I have a gecko.  
[03:12] _Akira_ : you have a pet gecko?!?!?!?!!  
[03:12] _Goro_ : Yes. I don’t have the time required to look after a dog or cat, so I adopted Miyuki a year ago.  
[03:12] _Goro_ : She’s a lovely pet, and very good company.  
[03:13] _Akira_ : Miyuki…  
[03:13] _Akira_ : send me pictures of her  
[03:14] _Goro_ : I will.  
[03:14] _Goro_ : I actually have a few saved on my phone.  
[03:15] _Goro_ : _[Attached: IMG_629745.jpg]  
_ [03:15] _Goro_ : _[Attached: IMG_623948.jpg]  
_ [03:15] _Akira:_ !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
[03:15] _Akira_ : she’s gorgeous  
[03:15] _Akira_ : beauty queen  
[03:16] _Goro_ : She accepts your praise.  
[03:16] _Goro_ : By the way, what time is it for you?  
[03:16] _Akira_ : oh I took that picture earlier it's 3 AM  
[03:16] _Akira_ : :)  
[03:17] _Goro_ : ?? And you're awake?  
[03:17] _Akira_ : jet lag  
[03:17] _Akira:_ I'm dead inside : ) lol  
[03:18]  _Goro_ : You should try to to sleep, regardless.  
[03:18] _Akira_ : but I want to talk to youuuuuuu  
[03:18] _Akira_ : hey you know   
[03:18] _Akira:_ the lizard made me think abt something  
[03:19] _Akira_ : do you remember that animal shelter near the uni  
[03:19] _Akira_ : I took you there a few times  
[03:19] _Goro_ : Of course.  
[03:19] _Goro_ : We had our first date there, somehow. Did they house reptiles? I can’t remember.  
[03:20] _Akira_ : no I don’t think so actually  
[03:20] _Akira_ : but I used to talk to Mrs. Tanaka a lot, that lady who ran the place. she was really cool  
[03:21] _Akira_ : I wonder if she still works there...  
[03:21]  _Akira_ : haven’t been there in forever, but I miss that place  
[03:22] _Goro_ : Are there other things you miss about Tokyo?  
[03:22] Goro: Surely there must be quite a few.  
[03:22] _Akira_ : yeah I mean I miss a ton of stuff  
[03:23] _Akira_ : mostly people… friends and Sojiro and Futaba  
[03:23] _Akira_ : oh and the food…  
[03:23]  _Akira_ : but I’m used to being on the move  
[03:24]  _Akira_ : stopping now would feel hella weird  
[03:24] _Goro_ : I see.

* * *

[20:32] _Goro_ : Makoto and I are going to see a client,  
[20:32] _Goro_ : and she offered to take me.  
[20:34] _Akira_ : that’s nice of her  
[20:35] _Goro_ : It would be a nice, if I didn’t have reservations about her choice of transportation.  
[20:35] _Akira_ : what do u mean  
[20:36] _Goro_ : To get around the city, she rides a motorcycle.  
[20:36] _Akira_ : omg  
[20:36] _Akira_ : Makoto with a motorbike…  
[20:36] _Akira_ : do you have to sit behind her on it  
[20:37]  _Goro_ : Yes. I’m not fond of it at all.  
[20:37] _Goro_ : It makes me feel like my life is seconds away from being torn from my body.  
[20:37] _Goro_ : And the helmet always ruins my hair.  
[20:38] _Akira_ : lolololol  
[20:38] _Akira_ : what a mental image  
[20:40] _Goro_ : Perhaps I’d feel differently if I were the one driving, but she would never let me steer Johanna.  
[20:41] _Akira_ : Johanna is… the bike?  
[20:41]  _Goro_ : Yes.  
[20:42]  _Akira_ : she gave it a name???  
[20:42] _Goro_ : She did.  
[20:43] _Goro_ : I’m certain she never wanted me to know, but I heard her talking to it once. She was quite flustered afterwards.  
[20:43] _Akira_ : wow.  
[20:44] _Akira_ : maybe you should get a motorcycle too  
[20:44] _Akira_ : bet it would be hot  
[20:46] _Goro_ : I’m more concerned with the fact that it would be more efficient than my bicycle. Though worse for the environment.  
[20:46] _Goro_ : But yes. I’d definitely look hot.  
[20:46] _Goro_ : ;)  
[20:47] _Akira_ : did you just ;) me  
[20:47] _Goro_ : I did.  
[20:47] _Akira_ : what is this feeling  
[20:48] _Goro_ : Oh  
[20:48] _Goro_ : I see Makoto coming in. I’ll talk to you later.  
[20:48] _Akira_ : wait  
_Goro is offline.  
_ [20:49] _Akira_ : goddamnit  
[20:49] _Akira_ : don’t just leave me here after ;)ing

* * *

[08:11] _Akira_ : is this your Instagram wtf  
[08:11] _Akira:_  [ _Attached:_   _Screenshot_765688.jpg_ ]  
[08:15] _Goro_ : Yes, that’s my account. You sound surprised.  
[08:16] _Akira_ : you have a ton of followers  
[08:16] _Akira_ : I would think you’d just have a private account  
[08:17] _Akira_ : you never really cared about SNS in uni so  
[08:17] _Goro_ : True, but maintaining my account became a hobby of mine as of late.  
[08:17] _Goro_ : I’m good at selfies.  
[08:18] _Goro_ : I occasionally post pictures of food or latte art, and those are popular.  
[08:18] _Goro_ : Also, Miyuki.  
[08:18] _Goro_ : Though not everyone likes geckos. They're fools.  
[08:18] _Goro_ : Regardless, it’s all about brand maintenance.  
[08:19] _Akira_ : brand maintenance…….  
[08:19] _Akira_ : wait do you BUY FOLLOWERS?  
[08:19] _Goro_ : No…  
[08:19] _Goro_ : I hardly have a need to.  
[08:20] _Goro_ : Because I cultivated my brand.  
[08:20] _Akira_ : you cultivated your brand  
[08:21] _Akira_ : your levels of nerdery continue to appall me  
[08:21] _Goro_ : -_-  
[08:22] _Akira_ : also when are you going to unblock me on Facebook  
[08:22] _Goro_ : Oh  
[08:22] _Goro_ : I forgot I did that.  
[08:22] _Goro_ : Haha. Have you been checking? Waiting to see if I’d lifted the veil?  
[08:23] _Akira_ : I can’t believe you type out haha and yes I have so hurry and get on it  
[08:23] _Goro_ : Wait.  
[08:23] _Goro_ : Is this because you want to change our relationship status to “It’s complicated”?  
[08:24] _Goro_ : Because if so, you’ll remain blocked.  
[08:25] _Akira_ : well…...  
[08:25] _Goro_ : Akira.  
[08:25] _Akira_ : come on imagine what all our friends from college would say  
[08:26] _Akira_ : don’t tell me the idea of shocking everyone doesn’t entice you  
[08:26] _Goro_ : That does sound somewhat appealing. But I refuse.  
[08:26] _Akira_ : ok ok I won’t do it just UNBLOCK ME please  
[08:26] _Goro_ : Fine.  
[08:28] _Goro_ : There.  
[08:29] _Akira_ : :D  
[08:31] _Akira_ : why do you have a page for brutalist architecture liked  
[08:32] _Goro_ : Because I like brutalist architecture. Anyway, I’m looking at your Instagram now.  
[08:32] _Akira_ : oh boy  
[08:34] _Goro_ : Your posts don’t seem to correspond to any common theme, but you have a lot of followers. I wonder why that is.  
[08:34] _Akira_ : I do take pictures for a living  
[08:34] _Goro_ : Well. Touché.  
[08:34] _Akira_ : and idk ppl like cool shit  
[08:34] _Akira_ : I post shit that’s cool  
[08:35] _Goro_ : Astute.  
[08:35] _Akira_ : lol  
[08:35] _Akira_ : like travel pics and selfies from interesting places and stuff  
[08:35] _Goro_ : Oh my God.  
[08:35] _Akira_ : wat  
[08:36] _Goro_ : You can hardly deride me for making an effort when you posted this.  
[08:36] _Goro_ : [ _Attached:_   _Screenshot_610853.jpg_ ]  
[08:36] _Akira_ : hey that’s a GOOD PICTURE  
[08:37] _Goro_ : It’s extraordinarily calculated.  
[08:37] _Akira_ : :(  
[08:37] _Akira_ : it was from when I went kayaking in Kauai  
[08:37] _Akira_ : do I not look manly in it  
[08:38] _Goro_ : Manly???  
[08:38] _Akira_ : rugged, maybe?  
[08:38] _Goro_ : Rugged?????????  
[08:38] _Akira_ : ok that’s enough question marks from you.

* * *

[07:54] _Goro_ : Actually, I was near the university today, and I remembered what you said.  
[07:54] _Goro_ : So I stopped by the shelter.  
[07:59] _Akira_ : !!!!!!! you did???  
[07:59] _Akira_ : how is it doing?  
[07:59] _Akira_ : is still there?  
[08:01] _Goro_ : It seems to be thriving. I was glad to see it.  
[08:01] _Goro_ : There's not many places like it in the city.  
[08:02] _Goro_ : I inquired after Hecate, but it seems she was adopted some years ago.  
[08:02] _Akira_ : aw  
[08:02] _Akira_ : I hope she’s got a good home  
[08:03] _Goro_ : As for Mrs. Tanaka, she still works there.  
[08:03] _Goro_ : She even remembered me. It was quite surprising.  
[08:03] _Goro_ : She mentioned you, too.  
[08:04] _Goro_ : ...Actually, she asked if we were still together.  
[08:05] _Akira_ : what did you say?  
[08:05] _Goro_ : “In a sense.”  
[08:05] _Akira_ : about sums it up

* * *

JULY

* * *

[06:13] _Goro_ : Explain to me why you’re angry again?  
[06:13] _Goro_ : All I said was that it would be nice to travel. I could surely use a break.  
[06:13]  _Akira_ : BECAUSE it’s come to my attention that you think my job involves flying first-class to fancy hotels and ordering room service  
[06:13]  _Akira_ : while taking occasional breaks to delicately snap a photo or two with my fragile consumptive fingers  
[06:14]  _Goro_ : You love to embellish, don’t you.  
[06:14]  _Akira_ : seriously my job isn’t just a permanent vacation  
[06:15]  _Akira_ : it’s work. there’s been so many trips when I didn’t have data for weeks or lost days of sleep or had to sleep in weird places outside  
[06:15]  _Akira_ : things have been different lately but it’s sorta the exception not the rule  
[06:15]  _Akira_ : you gotta be a survivalist for this job you know  
[06:15]  _Akira_ : can’t get the shots that matter from luxurious hotel balconies!!!  
[06:15]  _Akira_ : you have to get your hands dirty  
[06:16]  _Goro_ : It’s not as if I thought you have it easy, but I hadn’t fully considered that side of things. Interesting.  
[06:17]  _Akira_ : most times I’ll take a hundred shots at a place and only like three of them end up being usable  
[06:17]  _Akira_ : I used to get so down about it, but it’s how these things work  
[06:17] Akira: I love this job but it isn’t easy  
[06:18]  _Goro_ : Fair enough. I apologize if I implied otherwise.  
[06:18]  _Akira_ : -3-  
[06:18]  _Goro_ : I really have been wondering what it would be like to live your life. It’s just so different from anything in my experience.   
[06:19]  _Akira_ : maybe we should switch places for a week  
[06:20] Akira: I could fill out forms while you battle the elements.  
[06:21]  _Goro_ : ……Fill out forms?  
[06:22]  _Akira_ : oh.  
[06:22]  _Akira_ : I suddenly felt a wave of fear and regret for saying that  
[06:24]  _Goro_ : My job is just as exhausting as yours, Akira, in a different way.  
[06:24]  _Goro_ : I’m forced to go against nearly-impossible odds, absorb huge backlogs of research and paperwork, create viable strategies through constant study of the law and hone my communication skills.  
[06:24]  _Goro_ : And what’s more,  
_Goro is typing..._  
[06:25]  _Akira_ : ok ok ok point taken  
[06:25]  _Akira_ : we both have a lot of shit to do  
[06:25]  _Goro_ : Exactly.  
[06:26]  _Akira_ : I still think it would be funny to trade places though  
[06:26]  _Akira_ : they could make a sitcom about it  
[06:26]  _Goro_ : Hmmm.  
[06:27] Goro: I suppose it’d be good TV.  
[06:27]  _Akira_ : exactly

* * *

[00:14] _Akira_ : you’re online  
[00:14] _Akira_ : slacking off?? :3  
[00:16] _Goro_ : I suppose so. I should go back to work.  
[00:17] _Akira_ : noooo don’t leave me.  
[00:17] _Goro_ : Ha.  
[00:18] _Goro_ : One of my coworkers keeps attempting to set me up with someone.  
[00:18] _Goro_ : She made another effort today, for the first time since Venice.  
[00:19] _Akira_ : ???? what did you tell her  
[00:20] _Goro_ : I deflected, and when she kept pressing I told her I’m busy being complicated with someone who’s 15 thousand kilometers away.  
[00:20] _Akira_ : those exact words?  
[00:20] _Goro_ : Yes. She was quite confused.  
[00:21] _Akira_ : good boy  
[00:21] _Akira_ : ever taken her up on an offer??  
[00:22] _Goro_ : Not recently, as work occupies most of my time. But I’m certainly no stranger to the world of dating.  
[00:22] _Goro_ : Though I'm sure I’m nowhere near as active as you. (:  
[00:22] _Akira_ : ha ha  
[00:23] _Akira_ : okay we all laugh at this joke about me being the village bicycle or whatever BUT  
[00:23] _Goro_ : Yes?  
_Akira is typing…  
_ [00:27] _Goro_ : You haven’t said anything in a few minutes.  
[00:27] _Akira_ : well I was trying to think of a way to deny it but instead I just started thinking about my dating history  
[00:27] _Goro_ : Hmmm.  
[00:28] _Akira_ : HMMM, anyway. I don’t know, I like a lot of people  
[00:29] _Akira_ : and my job isn’t conducive to having actual relationships most of the time so yes things are usually more casual for me  
[00:30] _Goro_ : You don’t have a gender preference when in relationships, correct?     
[00:30] _Akira_ : no but my #1 preference is youuu ^3^  
[00:31] _Goro_ :  
[00:31] _Akira_ : how did you send a blank message  
[00:31] _Goro_ : It’s possible with my phone.  
[00:31] _Akira_ : ugh  
[00:32] _Akira_ : anyway  
[00:32] _Akira_ : do you just always avoid casual relationships  
[00:33] _Goro_ : Well…  
[00:34] _Goro_ : Once I form a connection with someone, it’s admittedly hard for me to classify anything as “casual”.  
[00:35] _Goro_ : I suppose my relationships tend to be more... "all-or-nothing", one might say. It isn't often that there's a lot of middle ground in my romantic life.    
[00:35] _Goro_ : But I’m not always necessarily opposed to flings.  
[00:35] _Goro_ : I mean, it’s hardly difficult to find that sort of thing if I’m looking for it.  
[00:36]  _Akira_ : wow.  
[00:36] _Goro_ : What? I’m aware of how I look. And I know how to get what I want from men, when I want it. It’s easy. So.  
[00:37] _Akira_ : I hate you  
[00:37] _Goro_ : That’s fine.  
[00:37] _Goro_ : And don’t tell me you aren’t the same way.  
[00:37] _Akira_ : -3-  
[00:38] _Goro_ : Sometimes the attention, without lasting commitment, just feels nice  
[00:38] _Goro_ : Oh.  
[00:38] _Goro_ : Wait, I assure you that’s not how I think of you.  
_Goro is typing_ …  
[00:39] _Goro_ : That’s not why I’m doing this.  
[00:40] _Akira_ : hey hey it’s ok  
[00:40] _Akira_ : I know what you meant  
[00:41] _Akira_ : anyway wow and you think I’m a harlot  
[00:44] _Goro_ : Ha ha.  
[00:44] _Goro_ : ...Don’t get the wrong impression from what I said. I assure you I’m not simply throwing myself around.  
[00:44] _Goro_ : No offense meant to you. There’s nothing wrong with such a lifestyle.  
[00:45] _Akira_ : oh fucking please  
[00:45] _Goro_ : :-)  
_Goro is typing…  
_ [00:47] _Goro_ : You know, it’s strange– a lot of the time I’ve avoided relationships, or ended them because of a feeling that I’d never be understood. Or that I wasn’t loved enough.  
[00:47] _Goro_ : But for my whole life I’ve loathed being alone.  
[00:48] _Goro_ : It’s the worst feeling in the world, in many ways.  
[00:48] _Akira_ : I know what you mean  
[00:48] _Goro_ : So I began to try to avoid it by any means necessary.  
[00:49] _Goro_ : I used to depend solely on other people to show me proof that I was worth being around, that I was worth anything.  
[00:49] _Goro_ : I still find myself doing so, sometimes.  
[00:50] _Goro_ : Oh.  
[00:50] _Goro_ : I’m sorry.  
[00:50] _Akira_ : for what?  
[00:51] _Goro_ : I was rambling.  
[00:52] _Goro_ : I really shouldn’t have unloaded like that. Forgive me.  
[00:52] _Akira_ : no seriously Goro I don’t mind at all  
[00:53] _Goro_ : It’s alright. I really do apologize.  
[00:53] _Goro_ : I think I have to go now. Do take care.  
_Goro is offline.  
_ [00:54] _Akira_ : ….

* * *

[19:33] _Akira_ : _[Attached: IMG_732190.jpg]  
_ [19:33] _Akira_ : HEY  
[19:33] _Akira_ : you met up with Futaba?!?!?!  
[19:37] _Goro_ : Oh, did she send you that picture?  
[19:37] _Goro_ : I did. I was going to tell you that I went by Leblanc yesterday after work, remembering her suggestion, and she was there.  
[19:38] _Goro_ : Of course, she was absorbed in something on her computer, had six empty cups of coffee in front of her, and didn’t acknowledge me for thirty minutes, but after that we had a pleasant conversation.  
[19:38] _Goro_ : Did you tell her about Miyuki?  
[19:38] _Akira_ : yes how could I not  
[19:39] _Goro_ : She wants to meet her. I told her it could be arranged.  
[19:39] _Akira_ : thank goodness  
[19:40] _Akira_ : I can’t believe you two took a selfie  
[19:40] _Goro_ : Haha. Isn’t it cute?  
[19:40] _Akira_ : the cutest  
[19:41] _Akira_ : what did you think of Leblanc  
[19:41] _Goro_ : I wasn’t disappointed, not by the coffee nor the atmosphere.  
[19:41] _Goro_ : I’ll have to return soon.  
[19:42] _Akira_ : :-)  
[19:42] _Akira_ : try the curry next time  
[19:42] _Goro_ : I plan to.  
[19:42] _Akira_ : you know something  
[19:42] _Akira_ : the shelter, Leblanc…  
[19:43] _Akira_ : it’s like you’re going to all these places for me, kind of.  
[19:43] _Akira_ : I can live vicariously through you  
[19:43] _Goro_ : Is that so?  
[19:43] _Akira_ : mm I haven't been homesick like this in a while though  
[19:44] _Goro_ : Sorry. Is it because of me?  
[19:44] _Akira_ : nooo no. I really do like seeing everything through your eyes  
[19:45] _Akira_ : but I really am missing everything more now  
[19:45] _Akira_ : and hey   
[19:45] _Akira_ : I really like talking to you, you know  
_Akira is typing…  
_ [19:46] _Akira_ : I wish you would realize you can open up to me whenever you want to  
[19:46] _Akira_ : you don’t have to apologize for telling me about yourself.  
[19:46] _Akira_ : it’s part of getting to know each other again, right?  
[19:47] _Akira_ : I want to know more about you. whatever you’re willing to share ofc  
[19:47] _Akira_ : oops I just said a lot  
_Goro is typing…  
_ [19:49] _Goro_ : Thank you.  
[19:50] _Goro_ : I suppose I still tend to put my guard up frequently. And I’m not very good at these kinds of conversations.  
[19:50] _Goro_ : But I’ll keep that in mind.  
[19:51] _Akira_ : :)  
[19:51] _Akira_ : you rly do remind me of Futaba sometimes  
[19:51] _Goro_ : ?  
[19:51] _Akira_ : ^_^  
[19:52] _Akira_ : you’re friends now, figure it out!!  
[19:53] _Akira_ : also now I have to send you a list of places I want you to go  
[19:53] _Akira_ : the beef bowl shop… Crossroads in Shinjuku…..  
[19:54] _Akira_ : omg I can make you do a scavenger hunt  
[19:54] _Goro_ : Make me?  
[19:55] _Akira_ : it’ll be just like a movie  
[19:55] _Akira_ : I have to find out a way to lay down clues  
[19:55] _Akira_ : gtg I’m going to brainstorm  
_Akira is offline.  
_ [19:56] _Goro_ : ...Sigh. 

* * *

AUGUST

* * *

_Call log: August 3rd, 18:44:31_

“Hey!”

“Hi, Akira.”

“Can you hear me okay?”

“Yes, perfectly.”

“Okay, good. Wi-Fi calls can be a crapshoot.”

“I suppose so.”

“It’s like 7 in the evening here. Early for you, huh?”

 **“** Ah, yes, it’s 9 in the morning.”

“...”

“...”

“So how’s–”

“Are you–”

“...”

“Ha. Okay, you first.”

“I was only going to ask if you’ve landed in Puebla yet.”

“Oh, yeah! We just got here a few hours ago. Went straight over to take some shots and now we’re back at the hotel.”

“You must be tired.”

“Eh, I’m used to it.”

“Do you have any idea how long you’ll be there?”

“Yeah, for around a month, until September. My next few months are pretty planned-out as of right now, too.”

“If it isn’t too much trouble, do you think you could… tell me where you’ll be and when? I use the calendar app on my phone frequently, and I thought it’d be nice to keep track of where you are, and–”

“Aw. You really do care!”

“...Shut up.”

“Haha. Yeah, definitely, I’ll make sure I keep you updated. I’ll message you the dates.”

“That’s… I’m glad to hear it.”

“...”

“Why are you laughing?”

“Uh, I don’t know. I’m really happy suddenly. I think I missed your voice.”

“Oh. Well. It’s… nice to hear yours as well. Very nice.”

“Heh. We should talk on the phone more often.”

“Yes. We should.” 

* * *

 **from** : Akechi Goro, akechi.goro@bldassociates.co  
**to** : Kurusu Akira, akurusu@velvetmag.com  
**Subject** : Nothing in particular

Akira:

   Hello. How are you doing? As for me, it’s very late. I’m in my office. There’s no reason why I should be at work, actually. To be honest, I don’t have anything to do. I won my case today, and there’s a short grace period before I need to move on to other tasks. In fact, a few colleagues I was working with suggested going out to celebrate. I was with them for a short while, but I wanted to leave, so I said my goodbyes. I thought I’d go straight home, but I ended up here.

    The office looks odd when it’s dark, though the the streetlights are still bright outside my window. I remember you once told me that you could no longer imagine living anywhere but in the city. I think I feel much the same. When you live in a place like Tokyo, it becomes tempting to resent people, to fold under the pressure, to let the energy of it all overwhelm you. The harder thing to do is to go through life and claim a place for yourself here, despite what seems to be the inclination of so many people and so many things to make it difficult. But I’ve never been one to turn away from a challenge. In fact, I think without this kind of struggle I might even stagnate or become listless. But perhaps I’ll feel differently later on.

    It’s nice to have moments to myself like this that I choose to seek out, to have solitude that isn’t forced or a way of escaping from something. Do you ever find yourself looking for time like that? Are you comfortable being alone? I feel there’s so much that I still don’t know about you– as you are today, not as you were five years ago. There’s a lot I’d like to learn.

    I’m sure I meant for this email to have a point, but it seems I ended up penning long-winded nonsense. I hope you’ll forgive me. Writing to you is easy– so much more so than having to draft professional emails. This correspondence of ours has led me to open up my inbox with anticipation, for once, and not mild dread.

    I apologize for rambling **.** Regardless, I don’t need to tell you to write back soon, do I?

Yours,

Akechi Goro

* * *

 **from** : Kurusu Akira, akurusu@velvetmag.com  
**to** : Akechi Goro,  akechi.goro@company.co[  
](mailto:akechi.goro@company.co)**Subject** : RE: Nothing in particular

Goro,

   First of all I always want to hear from you so don’t be stupid. In fact when I woke up and saw the notification from you while half-asleep I got so excited I dropped my phone on my face. Not sure why I’m telling you that b/c it was actually pretty embarrassing. And painful. Anyway, the point is that you can ramble to me whenever you want.

    Historical sites are my favorite place to go on assignment, but cities come a close second. The countryside is pretty whatever. I think I may be biased because I was kind of glad to get out of there as soon as possible. I guess it has its charms though. Idyllic living and all. If you like that kind of thing.

    I actually think the city’s easier to be in if you like being alone, b/c you can be by yourself without being isolated. Alone without being alone, if that makes sense. It suits me pretty well. Off topic, but I like places that are tourist-y, even if they’re gaudy, since they feel so unreal. Like some of the places I’ve been to have higher tourist populations than residential ones some parts of the year. Isn’t that crazy? More people passing by than people who actually live there. They always have such a different feeling. It’s almost unsettling. This is the opposite of my job, but I’ve always wanted to photograph a ghost town. Just someplace completely abandoned. I can’t imagine how it would feel to be near that kind of place and think about everyone who used to make their lives there.

    I think you’re right about city life being a constant challenge. Tokyo kind of made me feel like I had to prove myself. Like it was always asking me “Why are you here? You better have a good reason.” And I think that was good for me when I left home, because I didn’t know what the fuck I was doing, and I needed something to force me to go on.

    Maybe a part of why I like this job is b/c I like people, I like getting to know how they live and work and act in different places, but it’s a little easier to do that when you don’t have to get too close, when it’s always on to the next thing. Does that make me sound like an asshole? I just like to observe, I guess. And now I sound creepy…... Okay. Well, you know what I mean.

   See how much you give me to think about??? That’s why I need you around. And now you get a rambly email in return for a rambly email.

   I’m glad I get to talk to you again.

Best, Akira

* * *

[08:04] _Goro_ : Someone else from the office just got engaged.  
[08:04] _Goro_ : It seems I’m at the age where more and more people I know are deciding to get married.  
[08:07] _Akira_ : marriage is a flawed institution  
[08:07] _Akira_ : tear down the state  
[08:08] _Goro_ : Here we go again.  
[08:08] _Akira_ : :)  
[08:09] _Goro_ : Would you care to join us in the real world, my little revolutionary?  
[08:09] _Akira_ : weirdest pet name ever  
[08:10] _Akira_ : but I like it  
[08:11] _Akira_ : anyway setting up marriage as like the pinnacle of connection between two people has done more harm than good  
[08:12] _Akira_ : and letting the government extend its influence even into personal things is dumb  
[08:13] _Akira_ : don’t you think abuse of power is inevitable when concentrated in the hands of a single authority  
[08:13] _Goro_ : That’s quite a leap. So you’re making an ideological argument?  
[08:14] _Akira_ : sure  
[08:14] _Goro_ : Hm. If I were being pedantic or wanted to annoy you,  
[08:14] _Akira_ : or both  
_Goro is typing…  
_ [08:15] _Goro_ : I could argue that ideology itself is simply a game for elites.  
[08:15] _Akira_ : sounds wrong but elaborate  
[08:16] _Goro_ : Take Marx, for instance.  
[08:16] _Akira_ : wow  
[08:17] _Goro_ : His bosom friend Engels was quite well-off.  
[08:18] _Goro_ : The only reason Marx was able to develop and spread his ideas was because Engels provided him with the financial means to do so.  
[08:19] _Akira_ : I don’t know why I’m still not used to you saying things like “bosom friend”  
[08:19] _Akira_ : like you would think I would be by now  
[08:20] _Akira_ : but anyway what abt me? my annual salary is pretty depressing. 100% prole here!!!  
[08:21] _Akira_ : I engage with ideology and I don’t have anybody funding me. unless you want to step up  
[08:21] _Goro_ : Are you suggesting I be the Engels to your Marx?  
[08:21] _Akira_ : ;)  
[08:22] _Goro_ : You choose odd ways to flirt.  
[08:23] _Goro_ : Anyway, you’re not an archetypical prole; you earn perks with your job. Namely, the ability to jettison all over the world.  
[08:24] _Akira_ : well you know  
[08:24] _Goro_ : Do you really study these things seriously, by the way?  
[08:25] _Goro_ : Or do you simply delight in making offhand, anarchic statements to get a rise out of people?  
[08:25] _Akira_ : can’t it be both  
[08:26] _Goro_ : This conversation has gotten away from us.  
[08:26] _Goro_ : We were talking, however briefly, about marriage.  
[08:27] _Goro_ : Your misgivings aside, would you ever want to get married?  
[08:28] _Akira_ : hmmmm  
[08:28] _Akira_ : maybe for the tax benefits  
[08:28] _Goro_ : How romantic.  
[08:29] _Akira_ : hey I can be very romantic. romance is not thinking I need the state to validate true love  
[08:30] _Akira_ : but if it the option was there and it ended up being a convenient thing then maybe  
[08:30] _Goro_ : Interesting.  
[08:30] _Akira_ : hbu?   
[08:31] _Goro_ : Hmm.  
[08:31] _Goro_ : I suppose I haven’t really thought about it.

* * *

[07:42] _Akira_ : just woke up but the mirror in this hotel bathroom is so nice  
[07:42] _Akira_ : I have bedhead. but here’s a pic anyway  
[07:42] _Akira: [Attached: IMG_017428.jpg]  
_ [07:45]  _Goro_ : Haha.  
[07:45]  _Goro_ : You’re cute.  
[07:46]  _Akira_ : thx I am trying hrad to be  
[07:46]  _Akira_ : *hard  
[07:47] _Goro_ : You know, you can enable auto-correct in your settings to avoid typos like that.  
[07:47]  _Akira_ : wow thanks  
[07:47]  _Akira_ : this is totally new information to me  
[07:48]  _Akira_ : I turned it on just now  
[07:48]  _Akira_ : feels great  
[07:48]  _Akira_ : hey send me a picture of yourself naked  
[07:48] _Goro_ : Excuse me?  
[07:49]  _Akira_ : I am so sorry. that was autocorrect

* * *

[14:21] _Akira_ :  _[Attached: IMG_810776.jpg]_  
[14:21]  _Akira_ : thought of you  
_Goro is online._  
[17:05]  _Goro_ : A bird? Why did you think of me? Did you take that picture?  
[17:17] _Akira_ : no it’s from this thing we have now called the Internet  
[17:17] _Akira_ : look at how its feathers are all fluffed up and it’s like pointing its beak in the air  
[17:19]  _Goro_ : …???  
[17:20]  _Akira_ : it’s you!  
[17:20]  _Goro_ : :-|  
[17:21]  _Akira_ : I just feel like this is self-explanatory  
[17:21]  _Goro_ : ……..

* * *

[17:55] _Goro_ :  _[Attached: IMG_284120.jpg]_  
[17:55]  _Goro_ : I thought of you.  
[17:56]  _Akira_ : OK THATS SO MEAN  
[17:56]  _Akira_ : THATS LITERALLY A RACCOON EATING TRASH  
[17:56]  _Goro_ : LOL.  
[17:57]  _Akira_ : WTF!!!!!!!!!!!  
[17:57]  _Goro_ : Isn’t it self-explanatory?  
[17:58]  _Akira_ : I’m not talking to you anymore >:’(((((  
[17:58]  _Goro_ : Hahaha.  
[17:59]  _Goro_ : I beg your forgiveness. I couldn’t help myself.  
[17:59]  _Akira_ : -__-  
[18:00]  _Goro_ : :)  
[18:00] _Goro_ : But I really did think of you when I saw this on my timeline.  
[18:01]  _Goro_ :  _[Attached: IMG_085276.jpg]_ _  
_ [18:01]  _Akira_ : !!!!  
[18:01]  _Akira_ : cat!!!!!!!!  
[18:02]  _Goro_ : It has a mischievous demeanor, don’t you think?  
[18:02]  _Akira_ : :3!!!!!!  
[18:03]  _Akira_ : it’s very cute  
[18:03]  _Akira_ : ok fine you’re forgiven now  
[18:03]  _Goro_ : … :3

* * *

[20:21] _Akira_ : hey remember when we basically lived together for a week  
[20:21]  _Goro_ : How could I forget?  
[20:22]  _Goro_ : It was because it was exam week, and the library was much closer to my apartment,  
[20:22] Goro: if I recall correctly.  
[20:23]  _Akira_ : lmao  
[20:23] Akira: I was way too tired from cramming to go all the way to my place  
[20:24]  _Goro_ : You came in at all odd hours.  
[20:24] Akira: it was ok tho bc you never sleep  
[20:24]  _Goro_ : I do sleep. Sometimes.  
[20:25]  _Akira_ : we got a little sick of each other by the end of it  
[20:25]  _Goro_ : That was to be expected.  
[20:25]  _Goro_ : You’re messy.  
[20:26]  _Akira_ : well YOU only had breakfast food and frozen garbage in your fridge  
[20:26]  _Akira_ : so I had to go get groceries  
[20:27]  _Goro_ : You weren’t all that skillful at cooking, either, though.  
[20:27]  _Akira_ : I made attempts!!  
[20:28]  _Goro_ : That you did.  
[20:28]  _Goro_ : I’ve always been far more comfortable when on my own.  
[20:29]  _Goro_ : I supposed I never learned how to live with others peacefully.  
[20:30]  _Akira_ : hmmm  
[20:31]  _Akira_ : you know when we weren’t pissed at each other during that week we made a good team  
[20:31]  _Goro_ : Do you think so?  
[20:32]  _Akira_ : of course  
[20:32]  _Akira_ : and we still are one!  
[20:33]  _Akira_ : don’t tell me you forgot about the morgana mystery we solved  
[20:34]  _Akira_ : something about us when we're together ;)  
[20:34]  _Akira_ : we have that je no ses quill  
[20:35]  _Goro_ : Do you mean “je ne sais quoi”?  
[20:35]  _Akira_ : sure  
[20:36]  _Goro_ : Anyway, I can cook now.  
[20:36]  _Akira_ : insight check  
[20:36]  _Goro_ : What?  
[20:37]  _Akira_ : I don’t believe you  
[20:38]  _Goro_ : Fine. I can really only make okonomiyaki and stir-fry.  
[20:38]  _Akira_ : oh nice  
[20:38]  _Goro_ : I’ll have to make some for you when you’re in town.  
[20:39]  _Akira_ : will you feed me by hand ^_^  
[20:39]  _Goro_ : Gross.  
[20:40]  _Goro_ : Also, I still eat a lot of breakfast food.  
[20:40]  _Akira_ : some things never change

* * *

[08:12] _Goro_ : You’re leaving Mexico today, yes?  
[08:12] _Akira_ : yeah :-)  
[08:13]  _Akira_ : heading to the airport rn  
[08:13]  _Akira_ : another day another plane  
[08:14]  _Goro_ : Doesn’t flying that much become exhausting?  
[08:14]  _Goro_ : I don’t often travel, so I wouldn’t know.  
[08:14]  _Akira_ : it’s not that bad after you do it enough times it’s basically just like taking the bus. the sky bus  
[08:15]  _Goro_ : I can’t imagine ever being used to planes enough to think of them that way.  
[08:15]  _Goro_ : Before Venice, I’d only travelled once before, for a school trip in high school.  
[08:16]  _Akira_ : hs was my first time traveling too  
[08:16]  _Akira_ : but now that I’m an expert I can give you all my tips  
[08:17]  _Goro_ : I’m not sure if I need to know how to flirt with flight attendants.  
[08:17]  _Akira_ : awww are you jealous???  
[08:18]  _Goro_ : Feel free to think so if it pleases you.  
[08:18]  _Akira_ : I’ll take that as a yes!  
[08:18]  _Goro_ : -_-  
[08:19]  _Akira_ : I want to take you on a trip  
[08:19]  _Goro_ : Do you?  
[08:20]  _Akira_ : yea  
[08:21]  _Akira_ : where have you always wanted to go  
[08:21]  _Goro_ : Well, I’ve always wanted to travel. There’s plenty of places.  
[08:22]  _Goro_ : New York, Dubai, anywhere in India, the south of France....  
[08:23]  _Akira_ : then we’ll just have to take a world tour >:)  
[08:23]  _Goro_ : You’ve been on what’s effectively a “world tour” for years.  
[08:23]  _Akira_ : but it’ll be different when I get to show you everything  
[08:24]  _Akira_ : instead of the sights I’ll be looking at………………. wait for it…………. you ^_^  
[08:24]  _Goro_ : You’re too much.  
[08:24]  _Goro_ : And getting ahead of yourself.  
[08:25]  _Akira_ : I know I know  
[08:25]  _Akira_ : but it’s nice to imagine isn’t it  
[08:26]  _Goro_ : Yes, I suppose it is.

* * *

SEPTEMBER

* * *

[14:01] _Akira_ : good morniiiiiing  
[14:03]  _Goro_ : Hello.  
[14:03]  _Goro_ : It’s actually three in the morning here. But you were close.  
[14:04]  _Akira_ : damn it  
[14:04]  _Akira_ : why are you AWAKE?  
[14:05]  _Goro_ : I couldn’t sleep, so I’m finishing up a novel.  
[14:05]  _Akira_ : oh am I being annoying  
[14:06]  _Goro_ : Never.  
[14:06]  _Goro_ : How’s Montreal?  
[14:07]  _Akira_ : very french  
[14:07]  _Akira_ : I’m doing some editing rn  
[14:08]  _Goro_ : You know, you work and travel with other people, but I was under the impression that most people with your job go at it alone.  
[14:08]  _Akira_ : yeah that’s how I got started  
[14:08]  _Akira_ : but the magazine I work for rn is kinda different they make publishing stuff more of a collaborative thing  
[14:09]  _Akira_ : it always gets honors and shit for being unique and innovative or what tf ever  
[14:09]  _Goro_ : You seem flippant about that.  
[14:10]  _Akira_ : I mean it’s nice to be recognized or whatever but  
[14:10]  _Akira_ : I know our work is good  
[14:10]  _Akira_ : as long as I’m satisfied with what I’m doing that’s enough for me  
[14:11] _Goro_ : I see this is something that’s remained the same about you.  
[14:11]  _Goro_ : It’s refreshing.  
[14:11]  _Akira_ : pfft  
[14:11]  _Akira_ : hbu??? still ambitious???  
[14:12]  _Goro_ : Well, somewhat. In my job, recognition is certainly an advantage. But that’s not why I do what I do.  
[14:12]  _Akira_ : why do you do it then  
[14:12]  _Goro_ : Because I believe in justice.  
_Akira is typing…  
_ [14:13]  _Goro_ : And for a less bullshit answer, before you ask,  
[14:13]  _Akira_ : omg how did you know  
[14:14]  _Goro_ : It’s because the law enrages me as much as it interests me.  
[14:14]  _Goro_ : I really do enjoy studying the body of laws that make up the justice system in this country.  
[14:15]  _Goro_ : But what I’ve lived and seen has made it clear to me that the law isn’t objective. To say so is a blatant falsehood. It’s the norm, rather than the exception, for the law to favor some groups over others.  
[14:16]  _Goro_ : The world can be profoundly, cruelly, disturbingly unfair.  
[14:17]  _Goro_ : So I’d like to try to balance the scales, as much as I’m able.  
[14:17]  _Goro_ : It’s quite a lofty goal. But this is my way of coming closer to accomplishing it.  
[14:18]  _Akira_ : alright I get that  
[14:18]  _Akira_ : wow  
[14:19]  _Akira_ : I didn’t know you thought that way  
[14:19]  _Akira_ : I think I understand you better now  
[14:20]  _Goro_ : Do you? That’s nice to hear.  
[14:20]  _Goro_ : I think I’ll retire now, if you’ll excuse me. I’m starting to feel tired.  
[14:21]  _Akira_ : oh yeah get some sleep  
[14:22]  _Goro_ : Good night, Akira.  
[14:22]  _Akira_ : gn :)

* * *

_Call log: September 5th, 23:22:04_

“...Goro.”

“Hm?”

“Can I tell you something?”

“Feel free.”

“Okay. Today I was at this coffee shop. And while I was waiting in line the barista kept looking over at me. Like, just these little glances, right? So–”

“If you’re really calling just to brag–”

“No, no, listen. So she was clearly into me, and when I was making my order she was, you know, saying stuff, and I, you know, said stuff, and yeah.”

“...Okay. I’m trying to understand the point of this anecdote. Did you… get your coffee?”

“Yes.”

“...Congratulations?”

“Okay, here’s the point. So I was thinking about how right after I did that, flirted or whatever, I really just kind of felt...weird. Because– I mean, I didn’t mean anything by it. It’s just something dumb you do without realizing it, right? But it’s the first time that I’ve acted that way with anyone in a while.”

“...I see.”

“And I think I felt bad because– okay. Wow. This is sort of hard to say. Okay. I felt bad because I feel like I’m in a relationship. With you. I feel like I’m dating you. That’s just how I feel, as of right now. Oh, man. I wasn’t going to say that. I was going to tell you I wanted to get a better handle on what this was and then move from there, but… there it is. I know we haven’t made anything official, but… yeah. It’s been three months we’ve been talking, and I knew I liked you a lot from the beginning, so.... Look, if you feel… differently, than I do, then this would probably be a good time to tell me. Before I get in over my head. Wow, I just said a lot of words.”

“...”

“Goro?”

“Akira.”

“Yes?”

“Don’t flirt with people who aren’t me anymore.”

“...Yes, sir. Is that your answer?”

“It is.”

“...Awesome. That’s… Great. Wow. Okay.”

“I’d… been wanting to… I’m glad you said that.”  

“Wow. Okay. So… wow. I can’t stop saying _wow._  I mean... this is a little crazy, isn't it? Just..."  

"There's nothing about what we're doing that should make any sense. But in a way I don't yet understand, it does." 

"So... we’re really doing this? We’re all in?”

“I’m all in if you are.”

“Yup, yes. Definitely. Absolutely all in.”

“...This is only going to get harder, you know.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I know. I don’t really care, though.”

“Neither do I.”

“...”

“...”

“But you know, now I’m going to have to flirt twice as hard with you.”

“I find that perfectly acceptable.”

* * *

[22:03] _Goro_ : You didn’t.  
[22:04]  _Akira_ : didn’t what?  
[22:05]  _Goro_ :  _[Attached: IMG_096223.jpg]_  
[22:05] Goro: You didn’t get flowers sent to my office.  
[22:05]  _Akira_ : OH I did do that  
[22:05]  _Akira_ : :D surprise!!!!  
[22:06]  _Goro_ : Akira…  
[22:06]  _Akira_ : do you like them  
[22:06]  _Akira_ : also I may have gotten carried away  
[22:06]  _Goro_ : Just a little.  
[22:07]  _Goro_ : A lot of people in the office stared when they were brought in.  
[22:07]  _Goro_ : It’s a veritable garden in here.  
[22:08]  _Goro_ : But yes, I like them very much.  
[22:08]  _Goro_ : Thank you.  
[22:08]  _Goro_ : I’m a little overwhelmed.  
[22:09]  _Goro_ : I forgot how sweet you can be.  
[22:09]  _Akira_ : I’m so glad  
[22:09]  _Akira_ : I figured you would want something immediately noticeable  
[22:10]  _Goro_ : ...You do know me well.  
[22:11]  _Akira_ : damn it I should have made Makoto record your reaction for me  
[22:12]  _Akira_ : OMG  
[22:12]  _Goro_ : ???  
[22:13]  _Akira_ : SHE JUST SENT ME SOMETHING  
[22:13]  _Goro_ : What is it.  
[22:14]  _Akira_ : IT’S A PICTURE  
[22:14]  _Akira_ : YOUR FACE IS SO RED  
[22:15]  _Goro_ : How did I not notice her taking that??  
[22:15]  _Goro_ : I’m going to have a word with her.  
[22:16]  _Akira_ : and this is going to be my wallpaper  
[22:16]  _Akira_ : I want to see you really badly you know  
[22:16]  _Akira_ : but I’m really happy  
[22:17]  _Goro_ : I am as well.  
[22:17]  _Goro_ : I want to see you, too. Very much.  
[22:17]  _Akira_ : I kinda wish this was easier  
[22:18]  _Akira_ : but leave it to us to complicate everything  
[22:19]  _Goro_ : Don’t worry.  
[22:19]  _Goro_ : I like you precisely because you make everything complicated.  
[22:20]  _Akira_ : what a coincidence I like you for that too  
[22:20]  _Goro_ : :-)  
[22:20]  _Goro_ : We’re a couple of fools, aren’t we?  
[22:20]  _Akira_ : maybe  
[22:21]  _Akira_ : but I’m OK w/ it

* * *

[08:04] _Akira_ : and thx for yesterday  
[08:04]  _Akira_ : finally I have a reason not to uninstall Skype  
[08:05]  _Goro_ : Thanks, yourself.  
[08:05]  _Goro_ : I’m glad we worked out how to video call.  
[08:05]  _Akira_ : we should try doing it every weekend or something. when you have time  
[08:06]  _Goro_ : I’d like that.  
[08:06]  _Akira_ : :)  
[08:07]  _Goro_ : By the way, do you think I could get your opinion on something?  
[08:07]  _Akira_ : yea of course  
[08:08]  _Goro_ : What do you think of this haiku?  
[08:08]  _Akira_ : huh  
[08:09]  _Goro_ : “Steam rises from cups / A boon for a tired worker / Caffeine for my soul”  
[08:09]  _Akira_ : wh  
[08:09]  _Akira_ : who wrote that  
[08:10]  _Goro_ : Just tell me what you think.  
[08:11]  _Akira_ : it’s……………..  
[08:11]  _Akira_ : ok please just tell me if you wrote that I have to know  
[08:12]  _Goro_ : If you must know, yes. I did write it.  
[08:12]  _Goro_ : It was for homework, in a sense.  
[08:13]  _Goro_ : My therapist said poetry would be a healthy way for me to express my feelings. According to her I “need less self-destructive outlets”.  
[08:13]  _Goro_ : Which is ridiculous, but whatever.  
[08:13]  _Akira_ : wow  
[08:14]  _Akira_ : so did she tell you to write about coffee. or was that like your own idea.  
[08:14]  _Goro_ : Well, I was encouraged to write about something that elicited a strong feeling  
[08:15]  _Akira_ : and that thing was coffee.  
[08:15]  _Goro_ : Is that so absurd? I depend on coffee to get me through my mornings.  And I enjoy the flavor.  
[08:16]  _Akira_ : I just… I mean it makes sense but the fact that coffee was the first thing you thought of is really taking me someplace  
[08:16]  _Akira_ : caffeine for your soul…  
[08:16]  _Goro_ : Was that too much?  
[08:16]  _Akira_ : maybe.  
[08:17]  _Akira_ : also just bc you like coffee doesn’t necessarily mean you have “strong feelings” for it  
[08:17]  _Akira_ : it kinda seems like you just picked it bc you didn’t want to think about actually feeling anything  
[08:17]  _Goro_ : …  
[08:17]  _Goro_ : Oh.  
[08:19]  _Goro_ : Well, I’m loath to admit it, but you may be right.  
[08:19]  _Goro_ : And this… may be the first homework assignment I’ve ever failed.  
[08:20]  _Akira_ : well def can’t relate to that  
[08:20]  _Akira_ : anyway don’t feel bad  
[08:20]  _Akira_ : feelings are hard and you made a good try  
[08:21]  _Akira_ : and you know what could help with poetic endeavors  
[08:21]  _Akira_ : you have a new muse now  
[08:21]  _Goro_ : Hmm.  
[08:22]  _Goro_ : What could you possibly be referring to?  
[08:22]  _Akira_ : ;-)))  
[08:22]  _Goro_ : I’m afraid I’m simply at a loss.  
[08:23]  _Akira_ : fuxk you  
[08:23]  _Akira_ : *fuck  
[08:23]  _Akira_ : *u  
[08:24]  _Goro_ : Why would you correct “you”?  
[08:24]  _Akira_ : just seemed more harsh  
[08:24]  _Akira_ : and as u know it’s ME  
[08:24]  _Akira_ : write a poem about ME  
[08:25]  _Akira_ : wait  
[08:25]  _Akira_ : I bet you CAN’T write a poem about me  
[08:25]  _Goro_ : …  
[08:26]  _Goro_ : Are you trying to goad me into doing it?  
[08:26]  _Akira_ : it’s a good way to get you to do things  
[08:26]  _Akira_ : it always worked before  
[08:27]  _Akira_ : “I bet you can’t look through my whole paper before it’s due”  
[08:27]  _Akira_ : “I bet you can’t get us chips from the convenience store before it closes”  
[08:27]  _Goro_ : Yes. I remember.  
[08:27]  _Goro_ : -_-  
[08:28]  _Akira_ : lolllll  
[08:28]  _Akira_ : good times  
[08:29]  _Goro_ : Well, I could write one about you, but it would take time.  
[08:29]  _Akira_ : how long did the coffee haiku take  
[08:30] Goro: The better part of an evening, I suppose. Well, two evenings.  
[08:30]  _Akira_ : jesus  
[08:30]  _Goro_ : I went through several revisions.  
[08:31]  _Akira_ : at this rate I’ll get a me-themed poem in 5 yrs  
[08:31]  _Akira_ : in the meantime I’M going to write a poem about you  
[08:31]  _Akira_ : it’s gonna be so amazing and romantic that  
_Akira is typing…  
_ [08:32] _Akira_ : oh my God  
[08:32]  _Akira_ : hold the phone  
[08:32]  _Akira_ : I just had an amazing idea  
[08:33]  _Goro_ : ???  
[08:33]  _Akira_ : ok. ok  
[08:33]  _Akira_ : what if we made it a contest  
[08:34]  _Akira_ : a poetry contest  
[08:34]  _Goro_ : You’re saying we should compete over who can write a better... love poem?  
[08:34]  _Akira_ : um no  
[08:35]  _Akira_ : I’m saying we should compete over who can write the sappiest, cringiest love poem  
[08:35]  _Goro_ : ...Wow.  
[08:36]  _Akira_ : the loser has to post the winner’s poem to his Facebook wall  
[08:34]  _Goro_ : No.  
[08:36]  _Akira_ : coward  
[08:37]  _Akira_ : ok the loser has to mass email the winner’s poem to everyone we know mutually  
[08:37]  _Goro_ : ……….  
[08:38]  _Goro_ : What exactly would be the purpose of this exercise?  
[08:38]  _Akira_ : fun!  
[08:38]  _Akira_ and this could help w the feelings thing  
[08:39]  _Akira_ : just bc it’s cringey doesn’t mean it can’t be true!!!!  
[08:40]  _Goro_ : Hmm.  
[08:40]  _Goro_ : Okay. I accept the challenge.  
[08:40]  _Akira_ : oh??  
[08:40]  _Akira_ : just like that??  
[08:41]  _Goro_ : Well, this is, in effect, a classic “I bet you can’t.” So.  
[08:41]  _Akira_ : lmaonade  
[08:41]  _Goro_ : We’ll need an arbiter.  
[08:41]  _Akira_ : say no more  
[08:42]  _Akira_ : Ann’s perfect for this  
[08:42]  _Akira_ : actually I think she’s the only person who won’t yell at me for wasting their time when I ask but same thing  
[08:42]  _Goro_ : That’s fine with me.  
[08:42]  _Akira_ : not embarrassed that she’ll see your heartfelt words??  
[08:42]  _Goro_ : If I can defeat you, then nothing else matters.  
[08:43]  _Akira_ : I love it when you talk dirty to me  
[08:43]  _Goro_ : Be aware: I’m going to crush you.  
[08:43]  _Akira_ : heart eyes  
[08:43]  _Goro_ : You really have strange tastes, you know.  
[08:44]  _Akira_ : so I’ve been told  
[08:44]  _Goro_ : Perhaps I’ll simply write you something extra sadistic. :-)  
[08:45]  _Akira_ : ok. not saying I’m not into that.  
[08:45]  _Akira_ : but maybe not in this particular situation  
[08:45]  _Goro_ : ...Coward.

* * *

[01:03] _Goro_ : The weather’s not so nice here today.  
[01:03]  _Akira_ : rain?  
[01:04]  _Goro_ : Yes, and wind. Very unpleasant.  
[01:04]  _Akira_ : that’s too bad  
[01:04]  _Akira_ : you were always pretty bad with the cold  
[01:04]  _Akira_ : and the heat  
[01:04]  _Akira_ : you’re just a fragile bag of bones at the mercy of the weather  
[01:05]  _Goro_ : Very funny.  
[01:05]  _Akira_ : :-)  
[01:05]  _Akira_ : very handsome bag  
[01:06]  _Goro_ : Thank you, I suppose.  
[01:06]  _Akira_ : designer bag  
[01:06]  _Goro_ : Ridiculous.  
[01:06]  _Akira_ : ^_^ 

* * *

[22:14] _Goro_ : I’m in a particularly good mood today, actually.  
[22:15]  _Akira_ : good to hear!!  
[22:15]  _Akira_ : did anything happen  
[22:16]  _Goro_ : Yes.  
[22:16]  _Goro_ : I was informed that a top employee at a rival firm attempted to discredit me to one of my clients.  
[22:16]  _Akira_ : .....explain why this is good  
[22:17]  _Goro_ : He wanted the case I'm working on. For entirely self-serving reasons, I imagine. But it was no problem.  
[22:17]  _Goro_ : I was easily able to prove he was lying.  
[22:17]  _Goro_ : And with a little digging, I uncovered publicly available evidence that he’s been engaging in this kind of debased behavior for some time.  
[22:18]  _Goro_ : I sent the information to his employer.  
[22:18]  _Goro_ : He’ll probably be out of a job soon.  
[22:19]  _Goro_ : So I’m very satisfied, as you can imagine.  
[22:20]  _Goro_ : I’m actually toying with the idea of filing a report. It could have ramifications for the whole company.  
[22:20]  _Goro_ : It’s always nice when things go my way.   
[22:20]  _Akira_ : holy shit  
[22:20]  _Akira_ : you are so evil  
[22:21]  _Akira_ : I love it so much  
[22:21]  _Goro_ : Thank you.

* * *

 **from** : Takamaki Ann, anntakamaki@coolmail.com  
**to:**  Kurusu Akira, akurusu@velvetmag.com, Akechi Goro, akechi.goro@bldassociates.co  
**Subject:** Poetry contest!!!

Hey guys!

   So WOW. This was kinda a toss-up?? I was surprised bc Akira always goes on those dramatic tangents, so I thought he'd be hard to match. But Akechi, your nature metaphors were actually sooo heavy-handed and long that a lot of cringe points were given in your favor. I was actually shocked at the "cherry blossom petals like whispers of adoration" part. It sorta hurt to read. Respect!!

   At the same time, though. Akira kind of knocked it out of the park with the coffee thing. Like, "a fresh cup of love at the dawn of a rosy day"? Gross!!! Awful!!! Made me throw up in my mouth a little, which is hard to do bc I love sappy stuff!!! LOTS of points!!!

   No offense, Akechi, but I kinda feel like you lost the thread at the end there? Your stanzas about "hope's carpenter building purity's home" ended up sounding a little clinical. Also, I don't really think anything involving Akira can be that pure? It just seemed like you were getting frustrated with the prompt. Which totally makes sense because after all, these are super cringey!! To read, even, so IDEK how awful they must have been to write.

   It wouldn't count against you too much if Akira hadn't picked up speed. But he got super passionate. I can't believe I'm saying this though, but it was kinda... actually good?? Like  "To gaze upon the sun for you, I'd give my eyes for your embrace"? It sounds Shakesperean or something. I actually said this to Makoto today (paraphrased) bc I was so impressed. And she was totally into it!! Which ruled, but also, that is so not the point of this whole thing!! You're trying to make me CRINGE!! Stick to the prompt!!

   So in the end it went back to a toss-up. But honestly, there was really just one poem that came close to achieving what I was looking for (the super-embarrassing-will-regret-in-a-few-years-high-school-love-letter-confession vibe). And that................... was Akira's. I'm sorry, Akechi, but it was tough to beat "smooth skin like fresh-baked bread from love's oven". (Ugh.) Trust me, you made me cringe plenty too. I appreciate your effort!!!  
  
This was a lot of fun, guys!! Thanks for including me in this. I'm so proud that my wedding made this gross shit possible. 

♥ Ann

* * *

 **from** : Kurusu Akira, akurusu@velvetmag.com  
**to** : Akechi Goro,  akechi.goro@bldassociates.co[  
](mailto:akechi.goro@company.co)**Subject** : No subject

You know what to do. 

* * *

 **from** : Akechi Goro, akechi.goro@bldassociates.co  
**to** : Kurusu Akira, akurusu@velvetmag.com  
**Subject:** RE: No subject  


Won't this be more embarrassing for you? It's your poem.

And I cannot believe you stole my coffee idea. 

(You didn't mean the line about the sun, did you?) 

* * *

  **from** : Kurusu Akira, akurusu@velvetmag.com  
**to** : Akechi Goro,  akechi.goro@bldassociates.co[  
](mailto:akechi.goro@company.co)**Subject** : No subject

Trust me, it'll be worse for you.

Also, I /improved/ it! 

(I did, OBVIOUSLY.)

* * *

  **from** : Akechi Goro, akechi.goro@bldassociates.co  
**to** : Kurusu Akira, akurusu@velvetmag.com, Sakamoto Ryuji, sakamotor2493@coolmail.com, Okumura Haru, okumura@okumuracatering.co, Kitagawa Yusuke, kitagawayusuke@coolmail.com, Niijima Makoto, niijima.makoto@bldassociates.co, Sakura Futaba, futaba@coolmail.com  
**Subject** : No subject

...Hello, everyone.

Please take a look at the attached file, which Akira wrote for me as a testament to our new relationship. Thank you. 

* * *

 **from** : Sakamoto Ryuji, sakamotor2493@coolmail.com   
**to** : Akechi Goro, akechi.goro@bldassociates.co  
**Subject** : RE: No subject

Dude. WTF??????? What is wrong with you to make you think I wanted to read this???? It's like it's SEARED INTO MY BRAIN. 

* * *

 **from** : Okumura Haru, okumura@okumuracatering.co  
**to** : Akechi Goro, akechi.goro@bldassociates.co  
**Subject** : RE: No subject

Wow! I certainly didn't expect to see this when I opened my inbox. Do you two make it a custom to be so open with your feelings? I don't really think I have a similar tendency... But it's good to know you're opening your heart, Goro! I'm cheering you on!

* * *

 **from** : Kitagawa Yusuke, kitagawayusuke@coolmail.com  
**to** : Akechi Goro, akechi.goro@bldassociates.co  
**Subject** : RE: No subject

Fascinating. As the piece was written by Kurusu, I find I cannot determine whether its nature is farcical. The genuine air emanating from it is unmistakable, but I find it hard to believe anyone could have penned "a conjoining of souls that glistens like angel's tears" with the utmost sincerity. Thank you, Akechi. You have given me much to think about.

* * *

 **from** : Niijima Makoto, niijima.makoto@bldassociates.co  
**to** : Akechi Goro, akechi.goro@bldassociates.co  
**Subject** : RE: No subject

Oh, Ann told me about the contest. She would only show me a few lines from your poem, but they did seem to be something of an improvement from that haiku. I still agree with Dr. Amano- writing really could be good for you, you know. And I'm always available to offer constructive criticism. As for Akira's piece... well. I think it speaks for itself. Perhaps a little too loudly. 

* * *

 **from** : Sakura Futaba, futaba@coolmail.com  
**to** : Akechi Goro, akechi.goro@bldassociates.co  
**Subject** : RE: No subject  


break up with him again while you have the chance 

* * *

[00:03] _Goro_ : I’ve a rare hour with no obligations at work.  
[00:04] _Akira_ : nice  
[00:04] _Akira_ : a well-deserved break  
[00:05] _Goro_ : I suppose so.  
[00:06] _Akira_ : well  
[00:06] _Akira_ : I know what we could use this time for  
[00:06] _Goro_ : No.  
[00:07] _Akira_ : I DIDN’T SAY ANYTHING YET???  
[00:07] _Goro_ : No.  
[00:07] _Akira_ : Goro  
[00:07] _Goro_ : No.  
[00:08] _Akira_ : c’mon.  
[00:08] _Goro_ : As I have said before,  
[00:08] _Goro_ : I’m not going to have phone sex with you.  
[00:08] _Akira_ : but whyyyyyy  
[00:09] _Akira_ : :(  
[00:09] _Goro_ : I honestly feel that I shouldn’t even have to give you any reason why, but here’s one for the present time: I’m literally in my office. Right now. That’s where I am. Inside my office.  
[00:10] _Akira_ : ok? not seeing the problem  
[00:10] _Goro_ : How. Do you not see the problem.  
[00:11] _Akira_ : okay okay fine  
[00:11] _Akira_ : ……  
[00:11] _Akira_ : c’moooon  
[00:11] _Goro_ : No.

* * *

OCTOBER

* * *

[11:33] _Akira_ : it’s still so weird that I only saw you for like four days a few months ago  
[11:34] _Goro_ : It feels a little like it was a dream.  
[11:34] _Akira_ : yeah exactly  
[11:35] _Goro_ : It’s shocking, actually, that something so coincidental like that led us here.  
[11:35] _Akira_ : feels like fate huh  
[11:35] _Goro_ : Mm. Perhaps.  
[11:36] _Akira_ : :3  
[11:37] _Goro_ : Akira, I don’t mean to be overbearing.  
[11:37] _Goro_ : But do you know when or if you’ll next be able to come by Tokyo?  
[11:37] _Goro_ : Even if only for a short time? Just for my own curiosity.    
[11:39] _Akira_ : :( I’m sorry but I’m really not sure. I should definitely have some off time.... sometime next year during golden week  
[11:40] _Goro_ : Ah.  
[11:40] _Akira_ : yeah.... that's as far as I know   
[11:40] _Goro_ : I see.  
[11:41] _Akira_ : I really wish I could be more definite about things  
[11:42] _Goro_ : It’s fine. It isn’t under your control.  
[11:42] _Akira_ : u_u  
[11:43] _Akira_ : ty for understanding  
[11:44] _Goro_ : Of course.

* * *

[07:00] _Akira_ : ugh I can't sleep anymore  
[07:00] _Akira_ : I'll just bother you even though you're not online  
[07:01] _Akira_ : the german language was created to annoy me specifically  
[07:02] _Akira_ : first of all did you know “sie” means 193884942824 different things  
[07:02] _Akira_ : and don’t get me started on all the different ways to say nouns  
[07:02] _Akira_ : Munich is super nice though  
[07:03] Akira: there are a million people here because of Oktoberfest lmao  
[07:03] _Akira_ : did you know it actually starts in September?? false advertising  
[07:03] _Akira_ : this was probably a bad time for us to come, logistically, but wow is alcohol cheap here  
[07:04] _Akira_ : and people travel from all over for this, it’s actually really cool to see and shoot  
[07:04] _Akira_ : shoot like with a camera  
[07:04] _Akira_ : anyway I’m just talking to myself here  
[07:04] _Akira_ : but I miss you I’m thinking of you message me when you get the time  
[07:05] _Akira_ : ♥  
_Akira is offline._

* * *

[08:12] _Goro_ : H  
[08:13] _Akira_ : oh hey you're here  
[08:13] _Akira_ : what’s up??  
[08:18] _Goro_ : Akria.  
[08:19] _Akira_ : that is actually not my name but good attempt  
[08:19] _Goro_ : Haha.  
[08:19] _Goro_ : I’m here.  
[08:20] _Akira_ : ….yes you are  
[08:20] _Goro_ : Why are you  
[08:20] _Akira_ : what  
[08:21] _Goro_ : Here, obviosuly.  
[08:22] _Akira_ : ???  
[08:22] _Akira_ : Goro?  
[08:22] _Akira_ : wait  
[08:22] _Akira_ : where are you right now  
[08:24] _Goro_ : with Makoto.  
[08:24] _Akira_ : okaaay where with Makoto  
[08:24] _Goro_ : Out.  
[08:24] _Akira_ : are you drunk.  
[08:25] _Goro_ : Abstlolutely not.  
[08:25] _Akira_ : oh my God  
[08:25] _Akira_ : wait how am I LITERALLY where oktoberfest is and YOU'RE the one drunk messaging ME  
[08:26] _Goro_ : Lollllll.  
[08:26] _Goro_ : Why are you there?  
[08:26] _Akira_ : oh you know  
[08:26] _Akira_ : just taking some crappy pictures  
[08:27] _Goro_ : Your pctures renly crappy. :(  
[08:27] _Akira_ : renly  
[08:28] _Goro_ : Don't make fun of me  
[08:28] _Akira_ : sorry sorry ♥  
[08:28] _Goro_ : That isn't what I meat.  
[08:28] _Akira_ : you meat  
[08:29] _Goro_ : I meant why are you there and im here  
[08:30] _Akira_ : man I ask myself that a lot these days  
[08:30] _Goro_ : I want you here. :((((((  
[08:31] _Goro_ : ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥  
[08:31] _Goro_ : Oops I pressed down onthe keyboard LOL.  
[08:32] Akira: you’re so adorable like this  
[08:32] _Akira_ : how could I forget  
[08:33] _Akira_ : back then when you were even slightly buzzed you’d immediately get clingy  
[08:33] _Akira_ : I’m gonna cry just thinking about it  
[08:34] _Goro_ : What?  
[08:34] _Goro_ : I thunk you should come be with me.  
[08:34] _Akira_ : aw babe I wish I could  
[08:35] _Akira_ : if I could I’d be there with you right now trust me  
[08:37] _Goro_ : -________/__/__-  
[08:37] _Goro_ : You”re extremely stupid.  
[08:37] _Akira_ : yeah. don’t be mad? ♥  
[08:38] _Goro_ : Uuuuuhhgghg  
[08:38] _Goro_ : Fine.  
[08:39] _Goro_ : Lollll  
[08:39] _Akira_ : what?  
[08:39]  _Goro_ : Nothing…  
[08:40]  _Goro_ : I’m just laughig.  
[08:40]  _Akira_ : oh my God I’m so mad I want to experience more of this but I have to get back to work  
[08:41]  _Akira_ : take care of yourself ok I’ll call you later bye love you  
[08:41]  _Akira_ : oh.  
[08:41]  _Akira_ : I meant  
_Akira is typing…  
_ [08:41] _Goro_ : Love you too!!!  
[08:42]  _Akira_ : oh.  
[08:42]  _Goro_ : :-)  
[08:42]  _Akira_ : oh  
[08:43]  _Akira_ : ok well I actually really do have to go. so.  
[08:43]  _Akira_ : see ya!!!  
[08:43]  _Akira_ : ……  
[08:43]  _Akira_ : you’re gonna get home safe right.  
[08:45]  _Goro_ : Hahahahahhahahahaha.  
[08:45]  _Goro_ : Safety’s a priority.  
[08:45]  _Akira_ : well that was extremely ominous  
[08:45]  _Goro_ : :D  
[08:45]  _Goro_ : good night  
_Goro is offline.  
_ [08:46] _Akira_ : goddamnit  
[08:46]  _Akira_ : I’m calling Makoto  
_Akira is offline._

* * *

 _Goro is online.  
_ [21:13] _Goro_ : Sorry.  
[21:13]  _Goro_ : About the messages from last night. My mistake. I was out with Makoto and some other colleagues. This really doesn’t happen often.  
[21:13]  _Goro_ : I’m very embarrassed. Very sorry, again. Please, disregard everything I said. I didn’t mean to be so unbecoming. And irritating. I apologize.  
[21:15]  _Akira_ : hey hey slow down you just apologized like four times  
[21:15]  _Akira_ : LMAO it’s perfectly fine seriously it was funny    
[21:16]  _Goro_ : Makoto said you called her six times.  
[21:16]  _Akira_ : ok well. I just wanted to make sure you were home safe ok  
[21:16]  _Goro_ : Ha.  
[21:16]  _Goro_ : Thank you. I’m sorry, once again.  
[21:17]  _Akira_ : don’t worry about it!  
[21:17]  _Akira_ : also about what I said  
_Akira is typing…  
_ [21:17] _Goro_ : Akira, wait.  
[21:17]  _Goro_ : Listen. Don’t overthink.  
[21:17]  _Akira_ : oh  
[21:18]  _Akira_ : well if You’re telling Me not to overthink I better take it to heart  
[21:19]  _Goro_ : What we’re doing here– it’s good, isn’t it? It’s working.  
[21:19]  _Goro_ : Do we agree there?  
[21:20]  _Akira_ : I mean yeah I would definitely say it’s working  
[21:21]  _Goro_ : I’m glad you feel that way too.  
[21:22]  _Goro_ : But my biggest concern is that we’re going to get ahead of ourselves.  
[21:22]  _Goro_ : Pacing myself like this is not easy for me at all, but I like you very, very much.  
[21:22]  _Goro_ : And I don’t want to put what we have at jeopardy. Does that make sense?  
[21:23]  _Akira_ : yeah  
[21:23]  _Akira_ : I think I get it  
[21:23]  _Akira_ : I don’t want this to just be something that like  
[21:24]  _Akira_ : burns too bright too fast and fizzles out.  
[21:24]  _Goro_ : Yes. That’s exactly what I mean.  
[21:24]  _Goro_ : So let’s just keep doing what we’re doing.  
[21:25]  _Akira_ : but you’ll talk to me right if you ever feel like we’re not on the same page  
[21:25]  _Akira_ : it’s very important to me that we’re honest with each other  
[21:25]  _Goro_ : Of course.  
[21:25]  _Goro_ : I want us to be able to talk to each other. I’m working on that. And I feel comfortable communicating with you.  
[21:26]  _Akira_ : ok.  
[21:26]  _Akira_ : that makes me happy  
[21:27]  _Goro_ : Akira.  
[21:27]  _Goro_ : You’re dear to me. You know that, don’t you?  
[21:27]  _Akira_ : yeah, I know.  
[21:28]  _Akira_ : you’re important to me too.  
[21:28]  _Akira_ : you know THAT don’t you?  
[21:29]  _Goro_ : Ha.  
[21:29]  _Goro_ : I’m glad to hear it.  
[21:29]  _Goro_ : ♥

* * *

_Call log: October 25th, 11:13:22_

“Well, you know… you’re alone… and I’m alone…”

“No. Not now.”

“Oh, come– Wait. You said ‘not now’. You didn’t just say no like you always do. So does that imply that at a future time you would be willing to–”

“Maybe. Goodbye, Akira.”

“Wait, don’t hang u–”

* * *

NOVEMBER

* * *

[13:15] _Goro_ : Are you online?  
[13:21]  _Goro_ : You must be busy.  
[13:22]  _Goro_ : Call me later if you get the chance.  
_Goro is offline._

* * *

[16:55] _Akira_ : hey sorry just saw that  
[16:56] _Akira_ : you’re probably asleep  
[16:57] _Akira_ : sleep well I’ll message you tmrw  
_Akira is offline._

* * *

[09:02] _Akira_ : hey!!  
[09:02]  _Akira_ : could it be  
[09:02]  _Akira_ : are we here at the exact same time  
[09:03]  _Goro_ : It appears so.  
[09:03]  _Akira_ : finally  
[09:03]  _Akira_ : how are you doing I missed talking to you  
[09:03]  _Goro_ : I missed you as well.  
[09:04]  _Goro_ : Actually, things have been hectic.  
_Goro is typing…  
_ [09:07]  _Goro_ : Shit.  
[09:07]  _Goro_ : I completely forgot.  
[09:07]  _Goro_ : I’m sorry, Akira, but I just got a message. I have a conference call in ten minutes.  
[09:08]  _Akira_ : oh  
[09:08]  _Akira_ : well it’s np! we’ll definitely talk later  
[09:08]  _Goro_ : Absolutely. I apologize again.  
[09:08]  _Goro_ : I have to be leaving, but make sure to take care of yourself.  
[09:09]  _Akira_ : I will and you too  
[09:08]  _Goro_ : Yes.  
[09:08]  _Goro_ : I’ll talk to you later.  
_Goro is offline.  
__Akira is offline._

* * *

 **from** : Kurusu Akira akurusu@velvetmag.com  
**to** : Akechi Goro akechi.goro@bldassociates.co[  
](mailto:akechi.goro@company.co)**Subject** : abt this weekend….

Goro–

Thought I should email you about this b/c you haven’t been on the messenger in a minute. Deadline this issue is kicking my ass so I probably won’t be able to video call this weekend. Sorry. :((((( Miss you a lot as always.

XOXOXOXOXO imagine the Xs and Os stretching on towards infinity, Akira

* * *

[14:12] _Goro_ : Akira???  
[14:34]  _Akira_ : hey  
[14:35]  _Goro_ : I’ve been trying to message you for a day and a half.  
[14:36]  _Akira_ : I’m really sorry  
[14:37]  _Akira_ : I’ve been super under the weather.  
[14:37]  _Akira_ : actually haven’t gone out w the crew at all the past two days, mostly been sleeping   
[14:38]  _Akira_ : sucks I was excited about being in Greece **  
** [14:38] _Goro_ : You’re sick?  
[14:38]  _Akira_ : yeah  
[14:38]  _Akira_ : I can’t just afford to put off work especially when there’s a shit ton to do but  
_Akira is typing…  
_ [14:39]  _Goro_ : Does it hurt to speak?  
[14:39]  _Akira_ : not so much anymore  
[14:40]  _Goro_ : Then I’m calling you.  

* * *

_Call log: November 7th, 14:41:23_

“Akira?”

“Goro… hey.”

“You sound miserable.”

“Ha, well… I just caught a bug. Sucks, but it happens when you travel sometimes.”

“Are you eating and drinking enough?”

“Yeah, I am.”

“And taking medicine, if you need it?”

“Yeah. Goro, it’s fine, don’t worry. Promise I’m not at death’s door.”

“I’m aware of that, I just– Don’t be overeager to return to work. Rest has more benefit than you know.”

“I… you’re right. I’ll take it easy. For a little longer.”

“Promise me.”

“I promise, I promise.”

“...”

“...”

“Sometimes I loathe this.”

“I know.”

“Being apart... like this, I–”  

“I know. Me too. I hate it too. It really, really sucks.”

“It does… suck. Quite a lot.”

“Hey. Stay on the phone with me for a while. Just tell me something.”

“What should I say?”

“I don’t know. Just say whatever. I just want to hear your pretty voice. Entertain a sick man.”

“Well… all right. Um..."

"..."

"..."

"So–"

"Akira, are you familiar with the Roman virtues?" 

“Oh, you mean, the, uh... No, what are those?" 

“They were qualities that were emphasized as especially important for someone to possess in the time of ancient Rome. There are quite a few of them. Ah... for example, there's  _pietas._ That's a sense of duty- knowing one's obligation to one's fellow man, or community, or... family. There's _gravitas_ , which can be defined as the full understanding of the importance of one's goals. And there's  _disciplina,_ a sense of self-restraint." 

"This is kind of hot.”

“Seriously?”

“No, just nerdy. But continue."

"When I was younger, I quickly became a voracious reader. I liked history, especially. When I learned of Roman virtues, I became determined to fulfill each one by the time I became an adult." 

"...That's so adorable, in a little nerdy kid way. How old were you?"

"Oh, nine or ten... it was very silly, in retrospect. One virtue that especially interested me was  _iustitia._ That's justice, of course. I had never thought of justice as a virtue, a characteristic that a person could possess, before encountering the concept. The Romans thought having the virtue of  _iustitia_ meant being fair, responsible, and self-critical, too... The version of justice they espoused emphasized a genuine regard for others. Caring about fairness because you wanted the best for people."  

"It sounds like this stuff was really important to you."

"Well, a lot of things I read were important to me when I was young, but not for very long. I had the attention span of a child, after all. After a while I forgot about my goal. I certainly don't think I've fulfilled it now."

"You don't?" 

"Well, I'm not ten years old anymore; I'm not keen on basing my entire sense of self and value system on a list of words from centuries ago. But no, I don't think I've been.. dutiful or disciplined or even very just throughout my life." 

"I think you're dutiful and disciplined and just and all those other words. And you have your own values now. I know you enough to know that. It's made you a good person." 

"...Ha. Thank you, Akira." 

"..."

"..."

"I feel... really close to you lately. More than I ever felt I was in school. It's nice. I like it." 

"Strange, since we're so far apart."

"Heh. Isn't it? ...But hey, you know, I really do love your voice. I’d happily listen to you reading me your grocery list.”

“A grocery list? I actually have mine here with me. I was going to stop by the store after work tomorrow.”

“Wow. Well, what is it?”

“Ah… milk… eggs… juice… pancake mix… bagels…”

“Oh my God, the breakfast food.”

“It’s– the most important meal of the day, you know!”

“Ha– oh, shit. My throat must still be fucked up, because it hurts to laugh.”

“I’m sorry. I should leave you to your rest.”  

“No, no. Man. I miss you.”

“I miss you, too.”

“I actually miss you more when I talk to you. My brain must be broken.”

“No, I know what you mean.”

“...”

“You really should get some rest.”

“Yeah, probably.”

“Take care of yourself.”

“I will. Thanks for talking to me."

"Of course. Absolutely."

"And keep messaging me, if you get the chance, okay?”

“I'll do so.”

* * *

[08:12] _Goro_ : How are you feeling today?  
[08:13]  _Akira_ : fantastic now that you’re talking to me  
[08:13]  _Goro_ : Really.  
[08:14]  _Akira_ : I’m better, should be back on my feet real soon  
[08:14]  _Goro_ : I’m very glad to hear that.   
[08:15]  _Akira_ : we haven’t been talking as much lately I’m sorry  
[08:15]  _Goro_ : Yes. It’s all right. We’ve both been busy.  
[08:15]  _Akira_ : yeah  
[08:15]  _Akira_ : I hope I’m not doing too shitty a job of this  
[08:16]  _Akira_ : making an effort I mean  
[08:16]  _Akira_ : I know I wasn’t too good about that before  
[08:17]  _Akira_ : I didn’t take anything as seriously as I should’ve. I feel annoyed at myself when I think abt it now  
[08:17]  _Goro_ : I know. I was guilty of the same.  
[08:18]  _Goro_ : We were both fairly selfish. Taking more than we were giving.  
[08:18]  _Goro_ : It strained things. But I don’t feel that way at all now.  
[08:18]  _Goro_ : I appreciate the effort you’re making.  
[08:19]  _Akira_ : thanks  
[08:19]  _Akira_ : I don’t feel weird either  
[08:20]  _Akira_ : besides the general weirdness of like. the situation  
[08:20]  _Goro_ : Yes.  
[08:21]  _Akira_ : this long distance thing might actually be good for me even though it sucks  
[08:22]  _Akira_ : it makes me realize how important you are to me, at least  
[08:24]  _Goro_ : I hadn’t thought about it that way, but you may be onto something.  
[08:24]  _Goro_ : They do say absence makes the heart grow fonder. But maybe it’s more accurate to say that absence serves to illuminate the fondness that was already there.  
[08:24]  _Goro_ : That’s how I feel, anyways.  
[08:25]  _Akira_ : awwwww!!!!!!!!  
[08:25]  _Akira_ : why didn’t you put that in your poem  
[08:25]  _Goro_ : -_- I’m being genuine, here.  
[08:26]  _Akira_ : I know I know  
[08:26]  _Akira_ : you’re the cutest  
[08:26]  _Goro_ : Hmmm.  
[08:27]  _Goro_ : I know.  
[08:27]  _Akira_ : as soon as we both get some more time we’ll reconnect ok  
[08:27]  _Akira_ : I’ll make you talk to me on the phone for hours  
[08:27]  _Goro_ : I’d like nothing more.  
[08:28]  _Goro_ : And I’ll have my grocery list ready.  
[08:28]  _Akira_ : yeah you better  
[08:28]  _Akira_ : with some actual food on it

* * *

from: Kurusu Akira, kurusuakira@velvetmag.com  
**to** : Akechi Goro, akechi.goro@bldassociates.co[  
](mailto:akechi.goro@company.co)**Subject** : just thinking..... 

Goro, my sun and stars, light of my life, apple of my eye, etc.,

   Today we happened to be out just in time to see the sunset from a hill.It was really beautiful. But the whole time I was just thinking about you, and how much you would like to see it, and how I wanted to be there with you, and how unfair and annoying it is that you couldn’t be there with me. 

   I’m tired of missing you. I literally feel like I’ve always been missing you. Ha, I should sell that one to a greeting card company or something. (Maybe this is an business opportunity we could explore together? Let me know what you think.)

   Do you ever think about… lost time? Like how maybe if we had our shit together back then we wouldn’t have broken up? And then we could have had those five years together? I don’t know. It sounds so impossible and also stupid when I type it. But I still think about it sometimes.

   Yesterday at the hotel bar this woman tried to flirt with me so I told her I’m taken and showed her a picture of you on my phone. She then listened to me talk about you for ten to fifteen minutes. I may have been tearing up slightly. I may have been pretty drunk. She said you are very handsome. 

   I don’t know what else to say. I miss you. I think about you all the time. I’m so lucky I know you. I want to meet Miyuki.

   This is really, really hard, huh? But I don’t want to end this email in such a crappy boring way. Uhhhhhhhhh. Here's a joke. What's the difference between a lawyer and a liar? The pronunciation.

   Get it? Because lawyers lie????

   …….That didn’t exactly help, did it?

With love, Akira

* * *

 **from** : Akechi Goro, akechi.goro@bldassociates.co  
**to** : Kurusu Akira, akurusu@velvetmag.com  
**Subject** : RE: just thinking..... 

Akira, the boomerang who returned to me with surprisingly pleasant consequences,

   What would have happened to us if we hadn’t broken up? You might never have found your job. You may have become desperately unhappy. Maybe I wouldn’t be where I am now, either. Even though I’m angry at my past self for many reasons, I can’t say agreeing to end our relationship is one of them. We were different people then. If things had progressed, I don’t think it would have worked out well for us in the end.

   That said, of course I think about lost time. But though I’m not sure if I believe in fate, some part of me thinks this was supposed to happen– us finding each other again. It’s as if the world decided to grant us a second chance. And so far, I think we’re doing very well, as we learn from our past to improve the present.

   But the future remains uncertain as ever, and that fact continues to be painful. I can’t say I’ve been having an easy time with it all as of late. Sometimes I’m optimistic, and then I think about how I don’t know when I’ll see you next and find myself melancholic.

   I will tell you, however, that I adore you. And I’ve already told you I don’t like backing down from a challenge. From my end, I think those sentiments are enough to see us through.

   I miss you very much. Take care.

Yours,

Akechi Goro

P.S. That joke put you on thin ice. 

* * *

[16:32] _Akira_ : hey I’m sorry I couldn’t message when I said earlier  
[16:32]  _Akira_ : some things came up  
[16:32]  _Akira_ : are you upset?  
[16:35]  _Goro_ : It’s fine.  
[16:35]  _Goro_ : I’m not some kind of child that needs constant reassurance, Akira.  
_Goro is typing…  
_ [16:36]  _Goro_ : Sorry.  
[16:36]  _Goro_ : I didn’t mean that. I really do appreciate your saying so. I’m just...  
[16:37]  _Goro_ : frustrated.  
[16:38]  _Akira_ : it’s ok. I’m frustrated too  
[16:38]  _Akira_ : I’m still trying to figure out your boundaries, I guess  
[16:38]  _Akira_ : I hope I’m not being smothering  
[16:39]  _Goro_ : You aren’t. It means a lot that you’re keeping me in mind.  
[16:39]  _Goro_ : The distance between us just makes rationalizing with myself harder.  
[16:40]  _Goro_ : I suppose you could say it’s a battle with my mind.  
[16:42]  _Akira_ : I understand  
[16:42]  _Akira_ : and I want to be able to help with that if I can  
[16:42]  _Goro_ : It’s really something I have to work on myself. Something I’ll have to keep doing my whole life.  
[16:42]  _Goro_ : But I do appreciate your support. It’s a big help by itself.  
[16:43]  _Akira_ : okay  
[16:43]  _Akira_ : :-)  
[16:43]  _Akira_ : you know  
_Akira is typing...  
_ [16:44] _Akira_ : I’ve always been really out of sight, out of mind about most things  
[16:45]  _Akira_ : I don’t really know why. maybe it’s why I don’t get homesick. maybe it’s a coping mechanism or something idfk  
[16:46]  _Akira_ : it’s why friends get on my case sometimes because I’ll be shitty at replying to things and stuff like that  
[16:46]  _Akira_ : but the most important thing in my life is the people I’ve come to love and all that sappy stuff blah blah. anyway I’m trying to be better about this stuff  
[16:46]  _Akira_ : and I’ll keep trying  
[16:47]  _Goro_ : I’m not sure if I’m the same way.  
[16:48]  _Goro_ : Well, sometimes I find it hard to comprehend that I still have a connection with someone when that connection isn’t being continually re-validated. I suppose that’s something similar to what you experience?  
[16:48]  _Akira_ : well  
[16:50]  _Akira_ : for me it’s more like I don’t feel a need to re-validate? if I already made the connection in the first place? like my mind’s telling me “ok that’s enough, you don’t really need to reach out” you know?  
[16:51]  _Goro_ : ...Then it seems we may actually be opposites in this regard.  
[16:51]  _Akira_ : ouch maybe  
[16:51]  _Goro_ : This is actually something we should probably address.  
[16:52]  _Goro_ : Because that puts us on two completely different sides of the spectrum.  
[16:52]  _Goro_ : And we’re in a long-distance relationship.  
[16:53]  _Akira_ : I mean it’s a little different for me with you but right. yes  
[16:53]  _Akira_ : well, for my part, now that I know that’s how you feel I’ll try not to be a dick  
[16:53]  _Akira_ : and I won’t assume anything or take things between us for granted  
[16:54]  _Akira_ : you can count on me  
[16:55]  _Goro_ : That is reassuring.  
[16:55]  _Goro_ : I’ll try to be more understanding as well.  
[16:56]  _Goro_ : I really want us to be able to overcome things like this.  
[16:57]  _Akira_ : me too. it’s worth it  
[16:57]  _Akira_ : even though it can be confusing and all  
[16:58]  _Goro_ : As long as we communicate, I don’t think we have any reason to fear.  
[16:58]  _Akira_ : :-)  
[16:59]  _Akira_ : I feel good about this, you know  
[17:00]  _Akira_ : I feel good about us  
[17:00]  _Goro_ : Me, too.  
[17:01]  _Goro_ : I’m actually starting to enjoy the challenge of all this.  
[17:02]  _Goro_ : Maintaining this relationship feels like defying the odds. It makes me feel more committed.  
[17:03]  _Akira_ : wow  
[17:03]  _Akira_ : you really are the most competitive person I know  
[17:03]  _Goro_ : :-)  
[17:03]  _Goro_ : It’s a lifestyle.

* * *

[10:03] _Akira_ : hey  
[10:04]  _Akira_ : check it  
[10:04]  _Akira_ :  _[Hyperlink attached]_  
[10:05]  _Akira_ : I know you think my music taste is annoying  
[10:05]  _Goro_ : It's less eclectic and more hastily assembled.   
[10:05]  _Akira_ : -__-  
[10:06]  _Goro_ : Sorry. Continue.  
[10:06]  _Akira_ : but I made a playlist  
[10:06]  _Goro_ : For me?  
[10:07]  _Akira_ : for us  
[10:07]  _Akira_ : you know just songs that reminded me of you and us and. stuff  
[10:07]  _Akira_ : this is so sappy  
[10:08]  _Akira_ : but I tried hard to make it accessible ok  
[10:08]  _Akira_ : now we can both listen to it  
[10:08]  _Akira_ : kind of a way to have a connection even when we’re not talking, you know?  
[10:09]  _Goro_ : You’re very sweet.  
[10:09]  _Goro_ : I’ll download it now.  
[10:10]  _Goro_ : I can really tell you’ve been keeping our previous conversation in mind.  
[10:11]  _Goro_ : And I appreciate it.  
[10:12]  _Goro_ :  ♥  
[10:12]  _Akira_ :  ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥  
[10:12]  _Akira_ : you have to listen to it ALL the time okay  
[10:13]  _Akira_ : when you sleep  
[10:13]  _Akira_ : in the shower  
[10:14]  _Goro_ : And you don’t?  
[10:14]  _Akira_ : I have it playing right now. checkmate!!!!!!  
[10:14]  _Goro_ : Damn it.

* * *

[07:22] _Goro_ : Okay.  
[07:22]  _Goro_ : I did something.  
[07:23]  _Akira_ : what  
[07:27]  _Akira_ : please reply I’m scared  
[07:28]  _Goro_ : It’s nothing ominous.  
[07:28]  _Akira_ : so I don’t have to help you hide a corpse? I was preparing myself  
[07:29]  _Goro_ : I just thought I’d match you.  
[07:30]  _Goro_ : A gesture for a gesture.  
[07:30]  _Akira_ : ?  
[07:31]  _Goro_ : _[Attached: IMG_193609.jpg]_  
[07:31]  _Goro_ : Nothing big, really.  
[07:31]  _Goro_ : I just got some of your photos printed.  
[07:31]  _Goro_ : I put a few in my office and some others at home.  
[07:32]  _Goro_ : It isn’t exactly something we can share, unfortunately.  
[07:33]  _Goro_ : But I want you to know I’m thinking of you.  
[07:33]  _Akira_ : Goro……..  
[07:33]  _Akira_ : you’re the best  
[07:34]  _Akira_ : this makes me really happy  
[07:35]  _Akira_ : especially b/c I know you definitely wouldn't do it if you thought my photos were ugly  
[07:36]  _Goro_ : That’s true.  
[07:36]  _Goro_ : I can tell just by looking that you put a lot of yourself into these pictures.  
[07:36]  _Goro_ : Having them around makes me feel like there’s more of you in my life.  
[07:36]  _Goro_ : …..  
[07:37]  _Akira_ : are you blushing right now  
[07:37]  _Goro_ : No.  
[07:37]  _Akira_ : YOU ARE you definitely are  
[07:38]  _Goro_ : Shut up.  
[07:39]  _Akira_ : :D :D :D  
[07:39]  _Akira_ : I can’t believe I can’t kiss you right now  
[07:40]  _Akira_ : it’s so unfair... why can’t I teleport over??  
[07:40]  _Akira_ : here’s a virtual kiss for you: x  
[07:40]  _Akira_ : use it wisely  
[07:42]  _Goro_ : I’ll return it: x  
[07:42]  _Akira_ : ^w^  
[07:43]  _Akira_ : oh my god we’re so embarrassing  
[07:44]  _Goro_ : If we're not careful, we may even circle back to that time in third year.  
[07:44]  _Akira_ : what time  
[07:45]  _Goro_ : You tried feeding me in public when we were having lunch with Tadashi and his friend. The one whose name I could never remember.  
[07:46]  _Akira_ : oh yeah  
[07:46]  _Akira_ : lmaooo didn’t he leave the table in disgust  
[07:46]  _Akira_ : we were so gross sometimes it was great  
[07:47]  _Goro_ : Disgusting it was, but I like us this way.  
[07:47]  _Akira_ : so do I  
[07:47]  _Akira_ : xxxxxxxxxx

* * *

 DECEMBER

* * *

_Transcript of video sent to Akechi Goro, on December 2nd at 17:39:51_

_Akira_ : Hey, Goro! You know, Futaba always tells me I should vlog and I always tell her to shut up because that’s stupid. But I thought I’d make a video just for you. To, you know, uh, show you around Greece. So buckle up! Or whatever! _(coughing)_ Oh, I’m not good at this.

_(Camera pans upward)_

_Akira_ : So we're in Crete right now. This is a super old monastery. Almost five hundred years old. Uh, I feel like I had more facts about it but I'm blanking right now. Pretty, though, isn't it? 

_(Camera cuts away)_

_Akira:_ Okay, this olive tree is literally three thousand years old. I promise I'm not just going to show you old things, but man. Three thousand years old. It's going to outlive you and me, probably. Imagine how many people have harvested from it over all the years. So much history, it's just- ( _clears throat)_ I mean, yeah, it's cool.

_(Camera cuts away)_

_Akira:_ And this is Knossos. Ancient, abandoned city. Okay, I guess I really am just showing you old shit. It was abandoned, like, seven centuries ago, and, uh, no one knows why, apparently. It feels so weird to be here. I'm just going to walk around for a bit. 

_(Camera pans over landscape)_

_(Pause)_

_Akira:_ You’d really like it here, I think. It's just... wow. First stop on our world tour, definitely. Hey- Right, that's the palace over there. See the columns? Really pretty color. It reminds me of your eyes. What? Hey, fuck you! Sorry, my shitty coworker just rolled her eyes at me. And is now groaning. Too fucking bad. My boyfriend has beautiful eyes. I’ll tell the whole world. _(raised voice)_ MY HOT BOYFRIEND HAS BEAUTIFUL EYES!

 _Akira:_ Okay, as you can see, people are looking at me, the weird foreigner screaming.  ( _shuffling_ ) _(camera lowers)_ I am walking faster.

_(Camera cuts away)_

__Akira:__ This is another monumental part of Greek history. No, it's only a gyro I bought just now. It's pretty fucking good, though. 

 _ _ _Akira:__ (voice lowers)_ You know, this is kind of fun. I still think vlogging is stupid, but, uh... It's fun to do this while thinking about you. Because travel photography- so much of travel photography is about just people, really. And I know I'm just taking a crappy video with my phone right now, but it makes me think about- like- if there are other ways to tell stories like this with photos that like, put people first, you know? 

 _Akira:_ Whoa, I just– _(pause)_

 _Akira:_ Oh, sorry. I was just thinking– I got an idea, maybe. Huh. We’ll see.

_(Camera cuts away)_

_Akira_ : I'm walking back to where we're staying now, so I guess that's that. Well, uh, I hope you enjoyed this video. Maybe, if you’re good, I’ll make you another soon. Heh. Okay. Bye! Akira, signing off! ...Or whatever. Yeah, still not great at this. 

* * *

[21:01] _Goro_ : Can I talk to you?  
_Akira is online._  
[21:41]  _Akira_ : hi sure sorry I was busy for a bit but I’m free now  
[21:42]  _Goro_ : That’s fine.  
[21:43]  _Akira_ : isn’t it really late over there?  
[21:43]  _Akira_ : everything okay?  
[21:43]  _Goro_ : Yes. Well. I don’t know. I can’t sleep. I’m thinking about a lot of things.  
[21:44]  _Akira_ : want me to call?  
[21:45]  _Goro_ : No, it’s all right.  
[21:45]  _Goro_ : But I think I need to tell you something.  
[21:45]  _Goro_ : About me. And who I am, as a person.  
[21:46]  _Akira_ : yeah of course I’m listening  
[21:46]  _Goro_ : Okay.  
[21:47]  _Goro_ : Akira,  
[21:47]  _Goro_ : For a long time I thought that I should never be in a relationship.  
[21:47]  _Goro_ : Because the way I think of people and of myself can be, in many ways, uniquely destructive.  
[21:48]  _Akira_ : clarify?  
[21:51] _Goro_ : I have a different kind of personality.   
[21:51]  _Goro_ : Sometimes, I tend to fixate on situations or people.  
[21:51]  _Goro_ : And sometimes I put all my hope and attention into one person and want so deeply for everything to go exactly the way I envision it that it’s like  
[21:52]  _Goro_ : I’m tearing myself apart with feeling. Drowning myself in it.  
[21:52] Goro: I struggle with these tendencies, among others, because they're symptoms of my mental illness. I've been working through them, in treatment, for quite some time.   
[21:52]  _Goro_ : ...I’m not sure if I should continue.  
[21:52]  _Akira_ : why is that?  
[21:54]  _Goro_ : Because I don’t want you to think I’m telling you this because I want pity. Or that I’m attempting to guilt you into staying with me.  
[21:54]  _Goro_ : The thought that you would do so for either of those reasons scares me. And honestly, it repulses me, too.  
[21:55]  _Akira_ : Goro, I stay with you because I really, really, really like you and that’s not going to change  
[21:56]  _Akira_ : I like you because you’re not like anyone I know. among a million other reasons    
[21:56]  _Akira_ : and honestly I know how lucky I am you’re pretty out of my league in general. mostly financially.  
[21:57]  _Akira_ : that was a joke but please tell me everything you want to  
[21:57]  _Akira_ : I’ll always be honest about how I feel with you if I want to talk about us. so don’t worry about anything.  
_Goro is typing…  
_ [22:00]  _Goro_ : I can tell you really mean all of that.  
[22:00]  _Goro_ : Thank you.  
[22:01]  _Goro_ : Then… I’ll go on.  
[22:02]  _Goro_ : It’s always been hard to convince myself that anyone could really want me.  
[22:03]  _Goro_ : It’s much easier for me, sometimes, to turn away, to lash out, and sabotage the relationships I have.  
[22:03]  _Goro_ : To expedite the inevitable, as I tend to see it.  
[22:04]  _Goro_ : It’s happened with people I’ve dated, those who might have become friends…  
[22:05]  _Goro_ : I know this probably seems nonsensical, but it’s only because I value other people– their opinions of me, my treatment at their hands– that I react this way.    
[22:06]  _Goro_ : It’s been a long process for me to try and unlearn what I’ve internalized about my own self-worth and how I see others.  
[22:06]  _Goro_ : I think that I’m the most secure I’ve ever been right now.  
[22:07]  _Goro_ : But I still struggle quite frequently with these patterns of behavior.   
[22:08]  _Akira_ : thank you for trusting me enough to tell me this   
[22:08]  _Akira_ : I’m really grateful to have the opportunity to understand you better  
[22:09]  _Akira_ : is there a reason you’re telling me this now?  
[22:10]  _Goro_ : It’s because I haven’t been honest with you about the fears and the doubts that I had, going into this.  
[22:11]  _Goro_ : I didn’t know if I was prepared for something like this, because you aren’t just anyone. You’re someone I know well, who knew me when I was a person who, looking back, I don’t like very much.   
[22:12]  _Goro_ : I didn’t know how I’d be able to go on with this, especially since you’re so far away.  
[22:13]  _Goro_ : But you’re someone I want to hold onto. And that made me realize I wanted, very badly, for things to be different.  
[22:13]  _Goro_ : So I’d like you to know me as I am.  
[22:15]  _Goro_ : In university I was sure that if I was honest with you, things would fall apart.  
[22:17]  _Goro_ : I thought, for many years, that most relationships were about... maintaining mutual illusions.  
[22:18]  _Goro_ : But I don’t feel that way anymore. And that’s not what I want this relationship to be.  
[22:18]  _Goro_ : ...Perhaps this is a conversation I should have had with you earlier.  
[22:19]  _Akira_ : no, you don’t owe this conversation to anyone until you feel comfortable enough to share  
[22:20]  _Akira_ : and I could have done much more back in school too.  
[22:20]  _Akira_ : I was blaming you for not sharing with me, even as I never made myself easy to share with  
[22:21]  _Akira_ : so I want things to be different this time too  
[22:22]  _Goro_ : Right.  
[22:23]  _Goro_ : I’m laying all my cards on the table, here, Akira.  
[22:23]  _Goro_ : This is me. I’m giving you everything.  
[22:23]  _Goro_ : I don’t mean that in any kind of manipulative sense. I just think it’s important you know that.  
[22:24]  _Akira_ : I know  
[22:24]  _Akira_ : I'm really, really grateful for that  
[22:24]  _Akira_ : and I want you, all that you are. more than I ever thought I could want another person.  
[22:25]  _Akira_ : but I know it’s not easy for you to do this. and I’m all in with this and I’m going to do whatever it takes  
[22:25]  _Akira_ : to become someone who deserves your trust.  
[22:26]  _Goro_ : I want to be someone you can believe in as well.  
[22:27]  _Goro_ : As I’ve told you, I’ve been seeing someone for quite a while now. And it’s helped with symptoms, and the like.  
[22:27]  _Goro_ : So.  
[22:28]  _Akira_ : if you really do feel better about yourself than you ever have then I’m glad  
[22:28]  _Goro_ : I do.  
[22:29]  _Goro_ : It was very difficult to get here, but I’m here.  
[22:30]  _Akira_ : :)  
[22:31]  _Akira_ : that makes me happy  
[22:32]  _Goro_ : Well.  
[22:32]  _Goro_ : You make me happy.  
[22:33]  _Akira_ : ♥♥♥♥  
[22:33]  _Goro_ : Thank you for being you.  
[22:34]  _Akira_ : thank you for trusting me  
[22:34]  _Goro_ : Thank you for being someone I can put my trust in.  
[22:34]  _Akira_ : try and one-up me again  
[22:34]  _Goro_ : Thank you for that insightful reply.  
[22:35]  _Akira_ : shut up

* * *

 **from** : Akechi Goro, akechi.goro@bldassociates.co  
**to** : Kurusu Akira, akurusu@velvetmag.com  
**Subject** : Urgent request

Please take a look at the attached files, related to the recent case, as soon as possible. I’m sure I don’t need to tell you that this information isn’t to be shared with anyone outside of the firm.

Regards,

Akechi Goro

* * *

 **from** : Akechi Goro, akechi.goro@bldassociates.co  
**to** : Kurusu Akira, akurusu@velvetmag.com  
**Subject** : The previous email

Akira, that email was obviously not meant for you. If you haven’t already, don’t open those files. I apologize for the mistake.

Seriously, don't open them. 

Goro

* * *

 **from** : Kurusu Akira, akurusu@velvetmag.com  
**to** : Akechi Goro, akechi.goro@bldassociates.co[  
](mailto:akechi.goro@company.co)**Subject** : RE: The previous email

I literally opened them immediately. Sorry. But also not sorry. This is prime blackmail material. I’m going to take over Japan with it. Thank you so much.

Akira

* * *

 **from** : Akechi Goro, akechi.goro@bldassociates.co  
**to** : Kurusu Akira, akurusu@velvetmag.com  
**Subject** : RE: RE: The previous email

Akira,

I would be annoyed and concerned if I wasn’t sure you didn’t understand anything contained within those documents. 

Just delete the first email from your inbox. Please?

* * *

 **from** : Kurusu Akira, akurusu@velvetmag.com  
**to** : Akechi Goro, akechi.goro@bldassociates.co[  
](mailto:akechi.goro@company.co)**Subject** : RE: RE: RE: The previous email

Okay, I may not understand, but Futaba does probably and she can tell me how to take over Japan. Just saying.

* * *

 **from** : Akechi Goro, akechi.goro@bldassociates.co  
**to** : Kurusu Akira, akurusu@velvetmag.com  
**Subject** : RE: RE: RE: RE: The previous email

All right. How about this? I will definitely make it worth your while if you delete that email.

* * *

 **from** : Kurusu Akira, akurusu@velvetmag.com  
**to** : Akechi Goro, akechi.goro@bldassociates.co[  
](mailto:akechi.goro@company.co)**Subject** : I changed the subject b/c of all the REs

 ………...do you mean what I think you mean

* * *

 **from** : Akechi Goro, akechi.goro@bldassociates.co  
**to** : Kurusu Akira, akurusu@velvetmag.com  
**Subject** : RE: I changed the subject b/c of all the REs

Yes. 

* * *

 **from** : Kurusu Akira, akurusu@velvetmag.com  
**to** : Akechi Goro, akechi.goro@bldassociates.co[  
](mailto:akechi.goro@company.co)**Subject** : RE: RE: I changed the subject b/c of all the REs

OK deleted. 

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO Akira

* * *

 [19:09] _Akira_ : so how do you usually spend new years  
[19:10]  _Goro_ : With the Niijimas, for the past few years.  
[19:11]  _Goro_ : It gets lively. Sae can’t hold her liquor very well.  
[19:11]  _Akira_ : pffffft I’d love to see that  
[19:11]  _Goro_ : I suppose Takamaki will be joining us this time.  
[19:12]  _Akira_ : oh yeah  
[19:12]  _Akira_ : wow that’s weird to think about  
[19:13]  _Akira_ : in a good way though  
[19:13]  _Akira_ : as much as I fear and loathe the thought of you and her laughing over old ugly pictures of me or something  
[19:14]  _Goro_ : What a good idea.  
[19:14] Akira: nooo don’t I’m fragile  
[19:14]  _Goro_ : Imagine me rolling my eyes.  
[19:15]  _Akira_ : you can just say *eyeroll*  
[19:15]  _Goro_ : *I roll my eyes*?  
[19:15]  _Akira_ : close enough  
[19:16]  _Goro_ : Anyway, you probably don’t have anything to worry about. Takamaki and I have barely spoken, I admit.  
[19:17]  _Goro_ : I’m not sure how she feels about me.  
[19:18]  _Akira_ : Ann’s great. impossible not to like her really  
[19:18]  _Akira_ : I’m sure she likes you!! I think you two will get along  
[19:18]  _Goro_ : Do you?  
[19:19]  _Akira_ : yesssss 100%  
[19:19]  _Goro_ : Well, I’ll trust you, then.  
[19:20]  _Akira_ : :-)  
[19:21]  _Goro_ : I simply fear I’ll be intruding this year.  
[19:21]  _Goro_ : Takamaki is a part of their family now, and I think it may quickly become clear that I’m an outsider.  
[19:22]  _Akira_ : but aren’t Makoto + Sae family to you  
[19:22]  _Goro_ : Well…  
[19:23]  _Goro_ : They’re the closest thing I have to one.  
[19:24]  _Goro_ : We don’t often discuss things in emotional terms, but they function, empirically, as a family, I suppose.  
[19:25]  _Akira_ : they function, empirically, as a family  
[19:25]  _Goro_ : >:(  
[19:26]  _Akira_ : sorry sorry you just choose the least personal way ever to say things sometimes  
[19:27]  _Goro_ : Well, anyway, to put it in more accessible terms: family shit is weird.  
[19:27]  _Akira_ : oh now that makes sense  
[19:28]  _Goro_ : And thinking about it feels strange, and I suppose they are my only family, but acknowledging that fact makes me anxious for a number of reasons that don’t need to be expounded upon at the moment.  
[19:28]  _Goro_ : But I care for both of them very much, and I’m eternally grateful for all they’ve done for me.  
[19:29]  _Goro_ : It’s probably a debt I can’t repay.  
[19:30]  _Akira_ : I’m sure they don’t think of it as a debt  
[19:30]  _Akira_ : anyone would be lucky to have you in their family  
[19:32]  _Goro_ : Ha. The opposite has been true for most of my life.  
[19:32]  _Goro_ : But thank you for saying so.  
[19:32]  _Goro_ : Do you have any holiday traditions?  
[19:33]  _Akira_ : getting drunk  
[19:33]  _Goro_ : Ah, a classic.  
[19:33]  _Akira_ : I’m rarely with family during new years etc. anymore so yeah that’s pretty much the one option  
[19:34]  _Akira_ : I’m really close with the people I work with though, we have fun  
[19:35]  _Goro_ : It probably sounds selfish to say that I wish I could spend the holiday with you.  
[19:35]  _Akira_ : no I’ve been thinking about the same thing  
[19:35]  _Akira_ : all I want is for us to split a slice of xmas cake  
[19:36]  _Goro_ : I’d prefer my own slice.  
[19:36]  _Akira_ : >:(  
[19:36]  _Goro_ : Haha.  
[19:36]  _Goro_ : It’s difficult to be apart this time of year.  
[19:37]  _Goro_ : But at the same time, I’m glad we’re “together”.  
[19:37]  _Akira_ : so am I  
[19:38] _Akira_ : :-)

* * *

[10:13] _Akira_ : movie for tonight?  
[10:14] _Goro_ : I want to watch that slasher film I was telling you about. The one that came out decades ago.  
[10:14] _Akira_ : omg yeah  
[10:15] _Akira_ : it looks so good I think it got banned from airing on TV in some parts of the world b/c all the gore made people pass out or something  
[10:16] _Goro_ : How weak of them.  
[10:16] _Goro_ : 10 my time, then?  
[10:17] _Akira_ : yea I'll send you the link to the videoshare website  
[10:17] _Goro_ : Sounds perfect. 

* * *

[09:18] _Goro_ : I had lunch with Ann yesterday.  
[09:19]  _Akira_ : Ann???  
[09:20]  _Goro_ : Yes, she insisted on using first names.  
[09:21]  _Akira_ : :D  
[09:22]  _Akira_ : how’d it go? did she invite you out??  
[09:22]  _Goro_ : Yes. I wasn’t expecting it, but it seems she had the same realization I did about how we’ll be in mutual company later this month.  
[09:23]  _Goro_ : We had a pleasant meal at a restaurant I’d been meaning to try in Ginza.  **  
** [09:24]  _Goro_ : She’s a kind person. Very forthright.  
[09:24]  _Goro_ : I couldn’t detect anything disingenuous about her at all.  
[09:25]  _Akira_ : Ann keeps it very 100  
[09:25]  _Goro_ : Yes, sure, whatever that means.  
[09:26]  _Goro_ : She seemed intent on getting to know me better.  
[09:27]  _Goro_ : When I mentioned that I wanted to see more of Kitagawa’s art, she immediately offered to accompany me to one of his shows next month.  
[09:28]  _Akira_ : are you going to go?? that sounds like it would be fun  
[09:28]  _Goro_ : I agreed, yes.  
[09:29]  _Goro_ : Though I was surprised at how quickly she extended the invitation.  
[09:30]  _Akira_ : she’ll die for you now  
[09:31]  _Goro_ : I hope that’s an exaggeration.  
[09:31]  _Goro_ : How did you two become friends?  
[09:32]  _Akira_ : we were both weird high school outcasts basically  
[09:32]  _Akira_ : it just happened  
[09:33]  _Goro_ : I’m not sure if I can imagine Ann as an outcast. She’s charming.  
[09:34]  _Goro_ : Though young people have an especially notorious tendency to discriminate based on looks.  
[09:35]  _Akira_ : yea  
[09:35]  _Akira_ : people suck  
[09:35]  _Akira_ : but it’s how we got close so shout out to people who suck I guess  
[09:36]  _Akira_ : I’m glad you two are doing stuff together now just don’t hatch any evil plans behind my back  
[09:37]  _Goro_ : If we do, I’ll be sure to inform you beforehand.  
[09:37]  _Akira_ : thanks that’s all I ask

* * *

[18:11] _Goro_ : You seem busy lately.  
[18:12]  _Akira_ : yeah *__*  
[18:12]  _Akira_ : I’m working on something rn so sorry if I’m AWOL for a bit  
[18:12]  _Akira_ : it’s a little time-sensitive  
[18:13]  _Goro_ : Oh, something for work?  
[18:14]  _Akira_ : yeahhh a proposal for my editor to go in the magazine  
[18:14]  _Akira_ : it’s actually kind of risky but I feel good about it  
[18:15]  _Goro_ : All right. Then I wish you the best of luck.  
[18:16]  _Goro_ : Don’t overwork yourself, though.  
[18:16]  _Akira_ : yup I’ll be fine ♥♥ thanks  
[18:17]  _Akira_ : actually gotta duck out rn  
[18:17]  _Akira_ : before I go though how are you?  
[18:18]  _Goro_ : I’m doing well.  
[18:18]  _Goro_ : No need to worry.  
[18:18]  _Akira_ : ok :-)  
[18:18]  _Akira_ : then I’ll talk to you later?  
[18:18]  _Goro_ : Of course.

* * *

[12:03]  _Akira_ : let’s have another candlelight dinner  
[12:04]  _Goro_ : Oh?  
[12:04]  _Goro_ : Any occasion?  
[12:05]  _Akira_ : my proposal went through  
[12:05] Akira: my editor accepted it  
[12:05]  _Akira_ : :D :D :D :D :D :D  
[12:05]  _Goro_ : !!!  
[12:06]  _Goro_ : Congratulations. That’s wonderful.  
[12:06]  _Goro_ : Your hard work is paying off.  
[12:06] Goro: Then… tomorrow? What time?  
[12:07]  _Akira_ : well do you mind eating dinner at 11 pm  
[12:07]  _Goro_ : Not really. I’m usually awake, anyway.  
[12:08]  _Akira_ : great that’s 5 pm for me  
[12:08]  _Goro_ : I’ll find my lighter.  
[12:09]  _Goro_ : I hope Skype doesn’t crash again.  
[12:09]  _Akira_ : oh actually I don’t really have candlelight dinner food so instant ramen it is unfortunately  
[12:09]  _Akira_ : can’t go all out like last time  
[12:09]  _Akira_ : also I don’t have candles anymore.   
[12:10]  _Goro_ : Then… just dinner?  
[12:10]  _Akira_ : yeah. dinner  
[12:11]  _Akira_ : I’m still excited though!!!  
[12:11]  _Goro_ : As am I.  
[12:12]  _Goro_ : And I’ll have ramen as well.  
[12:13]  _Akira_ : aww it’ll be like we’re really together  
[12:13]  _Akira_ : sharing a bond thru a mediocre dining environment  
[12:14]  _Goro_ : :-)  
[12:14]  _Goro_ : So what exactly is this proposal?  
[12:15]  _Akira_ : I’ll tell you…… next week  
[12:15]  _Akira_ : still working out a few details  
[12:16]  _Akira_ : but it’s really really exciting  
[12:16]  _Goro_ : I’m eager to know, but I’ll look forward to it.  
[12:17]  _Akira_ : aw damn it I have to leave  
[12:17]  _Akira_ : but talk to you tomorrow?  
[12:17]  _Goro_ : Tomorrow.  
[12:18]  _Akira_ : ♥

* * *

 [07:34] _Goro_ : Ann and Makoto are shopping for furniture.  
[07:35]  _Akira_ : are you with them??  
[07:36]  _Goro_ : No. But I might as well be.  
[07:36]  _Goro_ : Makoto keeps sending me pictures of lamps.  
[07:36]  _Goro_ : Why can’t she just pick one? She’s so indecisive.  
[07:37]  _Goro_ : They all give off light in the end.  
[07:37]  _Akira_ : wonder how Ann’s doing  
[07:38]  _Akira_ : she’s pretty bad at hiding when she doesn’t like something  
[07:38]  _Akira_ : I hope Makoto doesn’t try and cross-examine her  
[07:39]  _Goro_ : I suppose this will be the first true test of their marriage.  
[07:41]  _Goro_ : Ah. Makoto just texted me again. They’re going with lamp #3.  
[07:42]  _Goro_ : She says she was conflicted between it and #1 but noticed Ann smile when she tried turning #3 on.  
[07:42]  _Goro_ : I replied “Too much information” and received angry emojis in return.  
[07:43]  _Akira_ : would you buy a lamp because I smiled at it  
[07:43]  _Goro_ : Like I said, whatever gives off light.  
[07:44]  _Akira_ : wow. romance is dead

* * *

[16:34]  _Goro_ : Christmas is coming quickly.   
[16:35]  _Akira_ : right? December always goes by fast  
[16:36]  _Goro_ : How's the temperature there?   
[16:36] _Akira:_ still pretty cool it's nice though  
[16:36] _Akira:_  so hey I'm probably not going to be able to be online for the next few days  
[16:37]  _Goro_ : Ah. Busy?   
[16:37]  _Akira_ : yeah  
[16:38]  _Goro_ : Make sure to take time out to rest.  
[16:38]  _Akira_ : I will thanks  
[16:39]  _Akira:_  hey can I ask you something  
[16:41]  _Goro_ : Go ahead.   
[16:42]  _Akira_ : how would you feel if we had to keep doing this long distance thing for a while?  
[16:42]  _Goro_ : How long is a while?   
[16:43]  _Akira_ : I don't know... a year, two?  
[16:43]  _Goro_ : What brought this on?  
[16:44]  _Akira_ : I was just thinking about things  
[16:38]  _Goro_ : I'm not sure.  
[16:38] _Goro:_ Do we really have to dwell on this?  
[16:39]  _Akira:_ yeah I don't like thinking about it either but it's a possibility right we have to consider it  
[16:41]  _Goro_ : I realize that, but do we have to do so now?  
[16:42]  _Goro_ : I just can't see the merit in considering this at the present time.  
[16:42] _Akira:_ ok ok.   
[16:43] Akira: you know you start saying more complicated words when you don't want to talk about something right like you know you do that  
[16:44] _Goro_ : I always talk like this.  
[16:44] _Akira_ : yeah   
[16:45]  _Goro_ : Akira, I'm more committed to you than I have been to anything in some time. Please understand that.   
[16:46]  _Akira_ : I do, I do. really.  
[16:46]  _Akira_ : :-) thanks for saying that. sorry if I made you uncomfortable.  
[16:47]  _Goro_ : It's alright. You're fine.   
[16:47]  _Goro_ : What are you doing right now?  
[16:48]  _Akira_ : working on the projectttt  
[16:48]  _Goro_ : Ah, the one you can't tell me about.  
[16:50]  _Goro_ : Would this be the reason why you'll be offline for some time?  
[16:51]  _Akira_ : yeah  
[16:51]  _Akira_ : I'll miss you :(   
[16:52]  _Goro_ : I'll miss you, too. But it'll only be for a few days.   
[16:52]  _Akira_ : I don't even like not talking to you for like two hours   
[16:53]  _Goro_ : Oh, you're so...   
[16:54]  _Goro_ : We frequently go two hours without speaking.  
[16:54]  _Akira:_ yes so you can imagine the pain I'm in  
[16:55]  _Goro_ : Hahaha.   
[16:55] Goro _:_ Maybe we'll be able to spend Christmas together, one year.   
[16:56]  _Akira:_ yeah  
[16:57]  _Akira:_ one day

* * *

 [22:58] _Goro_ : Hello.  
[22:58] _Goro_ : Weren't you meant to tell me about your proposal sometime this week?  
[22:59] _Goro_ : It seems I'll have to wait.  
[23:00]  _Goro_ : I know you told me you probably wouldn’t be online for a few days.  
[23:00]  _Goro_ : But I suppose you can read these messages later.   
[23:00]  _Goro_ : It's still Christmas Eve for another hour. I thought I'd wish you.   
[23:01]  _Goro_ : I still miss you, but I suppose that goes unsaid at this point.  
[23:02]  _Goro_ : Well, actually, I think what these last few months have taught me is that when someone is important to you, you shouldn’t leave anything unsaid.  
[23:02]  _Goro_ : So… I miss you. Take note of it.  
[23:03]  _Goro_ : It really has been a strange few months.  
[23:04]  _Goro_ : But in so many ways, it's been rewarding.   
[23:04]  _Goro_ : I think I've learned a lot about myself through our correspondence. And a lot about you.   
[23:05]  _Goro_ : And I really am eternally grateful to whatever it was in the universe that saw fit to bring us together again.  
[23:06]  _Goro_ : Akira, I was thinking about what you said again.  
[23:06] _Goro:_  I don't care if we have to continue this long-distance correspondence for years. You're worth any inconvenience.  
[23:06]  _Goro_ : It's very difficult to handle being apart. But I feel confident.  
[23:06]  _Goro_ : I'm sure we'll be able to overcome this.  
[23:07]  _Goro_ : No matter how long it takes.  
_Goro is typing...  
_ [23:08]  _Goro_ : Wait.  
[23:08]  _Goro_ : I just received a text message. From... you?   
_Goro is offline._

* * *

[23:07] _Akira_ : heyyyy  
[23:08]  _Goro_ : Akira? You’re messaging me from a local number.  
[23:09]  _Akira_ : oh  
[23:10]  _Akira_ : I sure am  
[23:11]  _Akira_ : aw fuck  
[23:11]  _Goro_ : ...What?  
[23:12]  _Goro_ : Wher3  
[23:12]  _Goro_ : Sorry. Akira, where are you right now?  
[23:14]  _Akira_ : damn it how did I forget to use the messenger  
[23:15]  _Goro_ : Akira??????????????  
[23:15]  _Akira_ : surprise ruined  
[23:15]  _Akira_ : okay, let me explain.  
[23:18]  _Akira_ : long story short– you the proposal I was working on? the one that went through?? it was for a photo series. of places in Yongen-Jaya. home.    
[23:20]  _Akira_ : but it’s gonna be kind of a different thing from my usual travel pictures. mostly I’ll be taking portraits. of people I knew there who helped me out or let me confide in them or affected me in some way when I was growing up. the point is trying to connect person to place, you know??  
[23:21]  _Akira_ : you made me think about it, actually. photojournalism that puts people first. b/c for a while there it felt like I was taking pictures mostly for you  
[23:23]  _Akira_ : it’s a super unorthodox assignment honestly. but it helped that I had the proposal well planned-out. so I managed to convince my editor, and... yeah. I’m going to be in Japan for at least four months doing this long-form thing. an article to go along with it, too  
[23:24]  _Akira_ : I mean I haven’t really written before but how hard can words be? right?  
[23:25]  _Akira_ : I really wanted to be home. b/c of how much I realized I missed it, and especially b/c of you.    
[23:26]  _Akira_ : so yeah to answer your question, I am currently catching a cab from the airport  
[23:26]  _Goro_ : Akira...  
[23:26]  _Akira_ : now I am getting in the cab  
[23:26]  _Goro_ : Akira. I don't even know what to say.  
[23:27]  _Akira_ : I am talking to the driver  
[23:28]  _Akira_ : and since you’re awake I hope you don’t mind I am telling the guy your address  
[23:29]  _Goro_ : You're really serious? You're here? Right now?   
[23:30] Akira: dead serious. and hey... now we can spend the holidays together  
[23:31]  _Akira_ : ♥  
[23:31]  _Akira_ : merry Christmas, Goro

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm sorry if you saw the word count for this chapter and had a heart attack, if it helps i did also. to be honest i’m a little glad to be rid of this bc it was a pain to format and i sacrificed some sleep to finish at a decent time so please comment and let me know if you see any mistakes... but IT’S DONE… 
> 
> i should say that throughout this fic i’ve been trying to portray Goro with borderline personality disorder. with varying degrees of effort/attention... buuut in this chapter i decided to try harder and get into it a little more. i know there’s always doubts about diagnosing characters which i get 100% but it’s just a headcanon i have that i wanted to implement, in a way that was hopefully respectful and accurate. 
> 
> i hope no one minded this format switch too much i know it was probably a little jarring. but as usual, thanks a ton for reading and waiting for updates and commenting/kudos-ing, it means so much!! 
> 
> and big big thanks to Selm for reading over some parts of this chapter for me and offering input <3 <3 
> 
> p.s. happy birthday Goro i didn't plan this but it sure happened


	12. epilogue: fall right in

Leblanc was always the same, and Akira was glad for it. Over the years, Sojiro had only made necessary improvements to the café, leaving the menu and the atmosphere more-or-less unchanged. It felt comforting to know that no matter how far he went or how long he was away, this place would stay as it was. 

“Actually,” Akira added, after voicing just that sentiment to Sojiro, “maybe you could make some upgrades around here. Get some stainless steel countertops? Some new, fancier coffee machines.” He could never resist messing with Boss. Even if it often came back to bite him later.

Sojiro just gave him a withering look.

Yes– Leblanc’s consistency was comforting, Akira mused as he sat back in his chair at the counter. However, it had made staying there for these past few months a little surreal.

He didn’t have a lot of other options. Or any. There wasn’t exactly any time to make new arrangements when his arrival in Tokyo last Christmas had been so last-minute. He certainly didn’t have the money to put up in a hotel for so long, and why would he, when there were other accommodations available? Perfectly friendly attic-y accommodations. Sojiro had offered him space in his own home, but the attic was what Akira knew. Besides, for the assignment he’d been working on, he was trying to get into the head of his high-school self. What better way to do that was there than by living in the same space he’d inhabited as a teenager?

“Install those digital ordering screens they have at restaurants nowadays. Or just hire robots as servers.” Akira continued to throw out suggestions as Sojiro’s glare from across the counter turned darker.

“Kid,” said Sojiro, putting a casual hand on the bag that lay on the counter between them, “I’m starting to think you don’t actually want your food.”

“I’m kidding, kidding!” Akira sang, and stood up before Sojiro could take away his curry. It was time he left, anyway; he had a lunch date to make. He grabbed the white plastic bag and bounded towards the door, calling “See you later!” over his shoulder.

He caught a glimpse of Sojiro shaking his head as he turned the corner, but he knew it was with fondness. Akira smiled to himself. It was good to be back.

At the subway station he tapped his card and got on his train, trying to hold tight to his bag of precious curry cargo while avoiding being jostled. No matter how many different systems of public transport all over the world he had used, Akira was still firmly convinced that Tokyo’s was uniquely hellish in terms of how crowded the trains always were. But the subway felt familiar, now, less a confounding behemoth and more a monster he’d grown to be mostly friendly with, if not tame.

It was a summer Saturday, the sun mercilessly steaming the sidewalks and the heat causing everyone on the train that Akira could see to wear that same glazed, passive look. It had been six months that he’d been at home– the longest that he’d remained in one place in a while.

Akira had finished his photo series on time. He was intensely proud of it– the reflection of everything he’d wanted to create, everything he’d envisioned when he first thought about conflating person and place. He’d been able to study things he hadn’t put into words or photos before– feelings of alienation even in a big city, unlikely people that became friends and unlikely places that became familiar, chance meetings and events that made tremendous impacts. For a short while, he had become a teenager exploring Tokyo for the first time all over again, starting from Yongen and expanding outwards. Going out of his element, interviewing people and writing his own reflections about how the things he’d encountered while growing up here had changed him, had sometimes been jarring, or a little too emotional. But the results had pleased him, and they had pleased his editor, too. The series had appeared in the May issue of the magazine, and the feedback it had gotten had been overwhelmingly positive, which was unexpectedly a huge relief. Putting so much of himself into it had been kind of terrifying, and seeing other people regard his work with favor was thoroughly validating in a way he hadn’t experienced before.

But before he’d submitted it, before he could receive a new assignment, he’d had a talk with his boyfriend.

“Well,” Goro had said. They’d been sitting across each other in one of the restaurants they’d grown to like, a place more-or-less equidistant from Leblanc and Goro’s office, having a celebratory dinner. “Tomorrow’s quite a momentous day.” His voice had sounded slightly strained. “At last you’re completing the final version of what I can quite literally call your magnum opus. And then I suppose it’ll be… time for you to return to your wandering ways. Time does fly, don’t you think? But we’ve been apart before, and I’m confident that we can do it agai–”

“Goro, I don’t want to leave,” said Akira.

And then Goro had gone on the defensive. All the signs that Akira knew so well were there, his back stiffening and his gaze shifting to the side. “What… do you mean by that?”

Akira chose to tread carefully. “I’ve been thinking about this… since I got here, actually. Look, I’m not naive. Four months before going back on the road… Even for someone like me, it would be a weird adjustment. The second I decided to come here, some part of me knew that I’d eventually have to be making this decision.” He paused.

Goro didn’t say anything, just leveled his gaze with Akira’s and waited for him to continue.

“So I did some digging. I looked around. And… I have an offer for a photography position at a newsmagazine in the city. I could take it, if I wanted to, and quit the job I have now.”

Goro sat up straighter.

“I already brought up the possibility to my editor. I could do it, and…” Akira took a breath. “I want to do it. But I need to ask you if _you_ want me to.”

“You’re… serious?” Goro said softly. “You could really just take this new job, and stay here?”

Akira nodded. “I won’t be doing the same work as I am now, obviously, but I can definitely see myself working there. It’ll be an adjustment, but I’m into it, and they’ve actually offered me a great salary, so… I’m pretty much ready to go through with it.”

He had thought this was definitely good news, but Goro’s eyebrows were still scrunched together in a way that indicated worry.

“Something wrong?” Akira asked, leaning forward with concern.

Goro closed his eyes. “You– to go to these lengths– Akira, this is about your way of life. Everything you’ve known for the past few years. Are you sure you want to give it up?”

Oh. Was that it?

Akira had never been one to worry very much, but at the beginning of his stint in the city, he’d had to face some fears. What if he and Goro couldn’t get along? Would they have to suffer more communication breakdowns? What if Akira’s quirks that were charming when they were oceans apart grated on Goro when they were face-to-face? What if Goro’s tastes had changed and he didn’t take his coffee the way Akira made it anymore?

But for the past six months, they’d found ways to accommodate each other, to make space for one another in each other’s lives. It definitely helped that they were in the same time zone. Akira was always learning– but he fancied himself a quick study, when the subjects of his attention were Goro’s habits or his triggers or the things that made him laugh or the ways he liked to be touched. He could feel Goro doing the same for him, in that analytical way of his, and to receive that consideration and quiet caring from him was always doing funny things to Akira’s heart.

It was such a no-brainer to stay at home. Yes– it meant having to learn a new life and putting an end to something he’d grown to enjoy doing. But like he’d told Goro, traveling constantly wasn’t a permanent vacation– it was work. Work that could wear on you easily, and after four years without an actual home, Akira was starting to feel the fatigue.

He wanted to stay, because he could, and because his project had reminded him that there really was no place like Tokyo. Because of the way Goro had finally, finally let him in and asked for nothing other than what Akira was already so willing to give– his understanding, his time, his devotion.

“I’m sure, Goro,” Akira said. “I mean, after all, Japan is home.” _Though I’m starting to maybe think I could make a home wherever you are with me_. Oh, but he’d never say that out loud– at least not yet. Even though the shade of red Goro’s face would definitely turn as a result would be a sight to behold. “But I’m asking you what you think about this.”

“I’m… Akira, I’m selfish.” Goro sighed. “I do wish for you to stay in Tokyo.”

Akira smiled.

“But I’m still unsure about the idea of you abandoning your vocation just for me. Maybe I’m only keeping you from the love of your life,” Goro said, almost to himself. “Wanderlust.”

“Oh my God,” Akira said. “Please don’t ever say something that makes me sound like a character in a low-budget indie movie again. Listen to me, Goro. I’m not abandoning anything I love. I love taking pictures, and with this new job I’ll still get to do that. And what’s more, I’m getting to stay here with you, and I love you.” It had sounded so right in his mouth that he’d felt compelled to say it again. “I _love_ you.”

“Akira… I love you, too.” Goro had bitten his lip. “You’re absolutely sure? You don’t want to leave?”

“Yeah,” Akira said. “I’m not leaving you.”

Then, for the first time that evening, Goro had smiled. And that settled that.

Akira was still living above Leblanc, even though Futaba kept bugging him to find a place– he just didn’t have time; he’d start looking eventually. And the café wasn’t far from the new magazine’s office, or Goro’s apartment just outside of Shibuya. The destination was as familiar as the impression in his hand of the key Goro always left under the mat. Arriving at Goro’s front door, Akira retrieved it and ran his finger briefly along the edge before turning it in the lock.

As it turned out, he didn’t have to; he could hear Goro’s voice as soon as he opened the door. “Absolutely,” Goro was saying. “I appreciate your reaching out.” He had his cell phone raised to his ear and was standing next to the couch, posture more slumped than usual and eyes a little tired. Just the sight of him, even after all this time, still made Akira feel giddy and warm and flush with affection.

When he heard Akira enter, Goro glanced over at him and brightened a little, giving him a quick, fond smile. He was on a work call, it sounded like. Akira walked over to the dining table off to the side of the kitchenette and placed the bag with the takeout box of curry in it on its surface. Then he came over to Goro and wrapped his arms around his waist from the back.

Goro started slightly. “Of course,” he said into the phone. He gently tried to dislodge Akira’s arms, but Akira linked his fingers together and held tighter.

“Obviously, if that’s something that must be done. I can’t see why…” Goro paused to let the other person continue before craning his neck to shoot Akira an annoyed look.

Akira grinned and rested his chin on Goro’s shoulder. Goro seemed to relent a little, letting his hand rest on Akira’s own instead of trying to pry it off. “I believe so.”

On an impulse, Akira moved his mouth to the space between Goro’s neck and his shoulder, letting his lips brush over Goro’s skin, just slightly.

Goro made a soft cluck of disapproval at him, but maintained composure on the phone. “Yes, exactly.”

After a moment, Akira bit, gently.

Goro stepped on his foot, hard.

“OW,” Akira whisper-yelped, letting go of Goro and backing away in a hop as he held his hurt foot.

Goro cut his eyes at him before turning up his nose and returning to the conversation. “I’m glad we could come to an agreement. Then I’ll leave you to your afternoon. Yes, please take care as well.”

He hung up with a short sigh before setting his phone down on the counter. Then he turned, grinned, took Akira’s face in his hands and kissed him.

It was a deep, proper kiss, enough to make up for the pain in his foot, really, but Akira still pouted when they pulled away. “So now you’re sweet,” he grumbled.

Goro smiled demurely. “Don’t bother me when I’m on the phone.”

“Love you too, jerk,” Akira said, and gestured towards the table. “Hey, I brought curry. Should still be warm.”

Goro eyed the bag and perked up. “Oh? Perfect. I’ll lay the plates.” He disappeared to retrieve them.

Akira took a moment to scan Goro’s two-bedroom. The same as it always was– modern fixtures, a few personal touches brought by some photos and smaller belongings, and just enough haphazard disarray to indicate that the resident was perpetually busy.

“Dear, could you feed Miyuki?” Goro called from the kitchen.

“On it.” Akira made his way over to the leopard gecko’s tank in the living area. Miyuki was stalking around inside, occasionally stopping before starting again, as if on the lookout for a notorious foe.

“Hello, beautiful,” Akira said, bending down to gaze at her before picking up a small pair of tweezers. With them, he reached into the small container nearby and pulled out a few crickets, dropping them one-by-one into the tank. Miyuki eyed the insects briefly before darting up and snatching one into her mouth, chewing voraciously.

“Ugh,” Akira said to her. “You’re gross.”

Miyuki paid him no mind.

Akira sighed. “I’m sorry. That was very rude of me. You’re gorgeous, as always.”

Miyuki seemed pacified.

When Akira returned to the table, Goro had gotten it ready, and they began their meal. It was the third time that week they’d had curry from Leblanc. One of them really had to learn to cook at some point. But Goro never seemed to tire of the curry, which had scored him endless points in Sojiro’s book.

“Makoto and Ann would like to have dinner with us next Friday,” Goro said in-between the sounds of forks scraping against plates.

“Oh, yeah, Ann mentioned it to me.”

“And apparently, two of Ann’s friends from university will be joining us as well. She said you’ve met them?”

“I have. Ooh, more people I know and you don’t,” Akira said, grinning. It was usually the other way around, with Akira tagging along to all of Goro’s work functions and meeting a long line of coworkers or purportedly influential people. Of course, afterwards Goro would fill him in on all the ways each person irritated him specifically, which was much more fun than the socializing itself. There was something so comforting about hearing Goro shit-talk– it always evoked warm and fuzzy feelings that reminded Akira he was in Goro’s complete confidence, that they could tell each other anything. It was enough to turn him into a sap, honestly.

“Exactly,” Goro said, “and so I would appreciate it if you’d stop introducing me to everyone as your ex-boyfriend.”

“It’s funny!” Akira protested.

“It might still be, if you hadn't tried it four times already."

Akira shrugged. “I still think it’s funny.”

After they finished eating and depositing the dirty dishes in the sink, Goro flopped on the couch with a sigh and fluttered his eyes closed.

“Tired?” Akira asked, squeezing in beside him. “You’re not overworking yourself, are you?”

Goro shook his head. “No, no. But I haven’t had the opportunity to rest all day. Thank you for coming by.”

“Of course. I said I would, didn’t I?”

They were content for a moment in silence, the comforting warmth of Goro’s body next to Akira’s familiar and welcome and easy. Akira would never get tired of this. He couldn’t imagine going without this anymore.

“Let’s do something tonight,” Akira said.

“Mm,” Goro said. “Should we? I don’t feel much like going out.”

“Me neither, actually… Maybe we could invite Futaba over, finish that movie marathon we started last month. I wonder if she’s free.”  

“That sounds nice.” Goro yawned. “Should I text her, or will you?”

“I’ll do it.” Akira dislodged his phone from his pocket and started to compose a message. After sending it, he put away his phone and let his eyes close. There was no harm in a little afternoon nap–

“Akira,” said Goro suddenly.

Instantly alert, Akira turned to him.

But before he could say anything, Goro blurted “Move in with me.” He paused for only a second before continuing, sounding more and more flustered as he went on. “I’m sorry. I was going to ask you properly, over dinner or something of the sort, but I only– I didn’t mean to make that seem so much like a demand. It’s just that you already spend so much time here, and, well, if you wanted to, then, I thought–”

“Okay,” Akira said.

Goro blinked.

“Can I put up my Smashing Pumpkins poster?” Akira asked.

“...Not in the bedroom, please,” Goro says, sounding a little bewildered as he wrapped an arm around Akira. “You’ve... already come to a decision?”

“Well, it’s like you said. I’m already here all the time. And this way I don’t have to look for a place.” Akira grinned and nestled closer to him.

“So you’re just using me, to avoid having to navigate Tokyo’s real estate market,” Goro said, but he was struggling to contain a smile.

“Not at all. It’s just that all I’ve wanted this whole time is an excuse to cook for you and do your dishes.”

“As if you can cook.”

“Okay, I’ll just make you a lot of coffee.”

“You are good at that...”

 _Living together._ Akira couldn’t say he hadn’t thought about it, hadn’t imagined it every time he woke up next to Goro in this apartment, or relished in the sight of one of his own T-shirts folded among Goro’s clothes, or shared a meal across from Goro at the table. But even despite all of his rumination, he knew of one thing for sure: it would be nothing like the days they’d awkwardly cohabitated in school, nothing like merely putting up with each other. It would be the creation of something new, something that would grow and grow and _last._

“It still feels so bizarre,” Goro murmured. “That we should have reunited for only a short time, and somehow ended up here…”

“It’s like what I always say,” Akira replied with a laugh. “You can never predict how things will go. All you can do is have faith in the chances you take.”

“Well, I’m satisfied with the chance I took on you.” Goro’s hand came up to rest at the back of Akira’s neck. “In fact, I feel remarkably fortunate.”  

“Obviously,” Akira said cheekily, leaning into his touch, catlike, “we’re meant to be together.”

He felt Goro’s fingers beginning to card gently through his hair. “It certainly seems that’s what fate wants for us.”

It all felt right. _This is where we belong. Him with me, and me with him._ There was no other way to say it. They had been together once, and now they had found each other again, and they were where they were supposed to be. It made so much sense that it was hardly worth examining the matter further.

 _This is where I want to be for the rest of my life,_ Akira realized.

He really was becoming such a sap, and it was all Goro’s fault. Because while just a short time ago Akira would have refused to do anything of the sort on principle, now he was thinking about the complexities of _forever,_  all the things that heavy word entailed– the things you had to consider when you were sure that you wanted to be by someone’s side for as long as you lived. Like the gestures that needed to be undertaken.

Like the question that needed to be asked, and the answer that needed to be given.

Akira had a vision, suddenly, of Goro, giving that answer to him, of how he would look as he said it, shocked and flustered and happy. _That’s what I want_ , Akira decided. He and Goro, simply... making each other happy.

“What are you thinking about now?” Goro’s voice came suddenly, warm and slow and unguarded.

Akira looked over at Goro, at his questioning eyes and the slight smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, and smiled back. “Oh, nothing.”

There would be plenty of time to ask that question later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> would you believe i expected this to be 50k at most when i started writing... big thanks to friends for hype-manning; without them i would have gotten really burned our really fast. very big thanks to PK who suggested venice when i asked where makoann would have their destination wedding. super big thanks to everyone for following along, commenting, kudos-ing, bookmarking, all of that, i appreciate it so much 
> 
> this is my first multi-chapter in forever and longest fic i've ever written for sure. working on it reminded me of how much i enjoy writing and seeing anyone tell me about how an update brightened their day made me super happy!!
> 
> i'm going to be writing a makoann one-shot as a prequel to this at some point so look out for that if it interests you. aside from that, once again, thank you so much for reading <3


End file.
